


In the Summer

by Ytteb



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-11 01:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18420438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ytteb/pseuds/Ytteb
Summary: Sitting by a lake begins an unexpected relationship. Tony centric but whole team involved eventually.





	1. Chapter 1

She sits at the lakeside gazing out across the water, enjoying the companionship of the moment.  She steals a look at the man sitting nearby and wonders what people are thinking when they see the two of them together.  Some people are probably envious: her father is still good-looking enough to draw admiring glances.  She thinks, however, that what the discerning person will see (and perhaps be envious of) is their close bond.  There aren’t many fathers and daughters who would be content to sit in silence together, not needing words to communicate.

She sighs happily.  The sound seems to rouse her companion from his reverie, and he turns in her direction and frowns.

The dream collapses: if this was a cartoon, she thinks you would be able to hear the bubble burst.  For this is not her father who is sitting with her.  She knows nothing about him except that he arrived at the swanky, and expensive, country club hotel four days ago and this is the first time he has ventured outside.

She is staying with her uncle and aunt for the summer.  Uncle Mark is the golf professional and Aunt Cat is one of the receptionists; they have a cottage in the grounds and have agreed to take their niece for the summer.  Her mother has been offered a job in Wisconsin and says that, at the moment, she hasn’t found anywhere to stay where a child would be accepted.  Uncle Mark and Aunt Cassie are used to taking in their niece and their niece is used to being farmed out.  They are kind but busy and she is expected to make her own amusements and, most importantly, not get in the way of the guests.

Not getting in the way of the guests does not, however, prevent her from watching them.  She saw the good-looking guy arrive and was struck, not by his handsomeness, but by his sad, almost defeated demeanour.  She watched the next morning, but he didn’t come down to breakfast.  Her watch from the terrace was rewarded later in the day when he walked into the library.  She wasn’t the only one who saw him: Melissa – another of the reception staff – spotted him and she walked in after him and began, unnecessarily, to tidy some of the magazines.  He had looked at her stonily and put earbuds in his ears and started to listen to something on his phone.  Melissa was not easily deterred and made sure to fuss with something on a table in his line of sight and to wiggle her ass in what she probably intended to be a seductive and inviting manner.  Good-looking guy simply picked up a book and began to read.  Melissa huffed and withdrew but he took no notice and continued to gaze at the book.  The watcher noticed, however, that he did not turn any pages.

Today is the first day he has left the building: which is ironic since it is also the first day that the sun has not shone, and the sky not be blue.  He walks to the lake, pauses as he seems to check for other people, and then makes his way to the edge of a wooded area a little way from the lake.  It takes him a long time to get there, he walks very slowly for someone who is not very elderly to the girl’s eyes.

She also takes a long time to get near to him.  She takes care to make it look casual, accidental although, from the way he stares across the water, she doesn’t think he’s noticed her.  For a while, she makes herself a necklace out of the flowers that grow among the grass but soon decides she has created a reason for being there and abandons the task.  She allows the dream to develop and warm her.  She has never known her own father; her mother never talks of him and her uncle has suggested that he never knew of the pregnancy.  Perhaps, she thinks, this man is her father and has shown up in the sort of coincidence that occurs in the stories and movies she loves.  She knows it is foolish but, for a few minutes, allows herself to wish.

Until she sighs and he turns to look at her with that frown.

NCISNCIS

He doesn’t want to be here.  Hell, he doesn’t want to be anywhere, but he doesn’t have the energy or the will to resist those who are making decisions for him.  He has allowed them to drive him here, to find him somewhere to _get his strength back_ … he wonders if they really mean _get your brain in gear again._

He doesn’t care.  Or perhaps he does care but not enough to do anything about it.  He is cast adrift in his own life.

He has spent three days lurking in the house.  He isn’t sure why he doesn’t simply stay in bed or watch from his bedroom window but there is something which is driving him to obey at least some of his orders.  He has been told to get out a little, to mix with people, get some gentle exercise.  If asked, he can tell _them_ that he left his room for hours at a time … he won’t tell them he hasn’t spoken with anyone in that time and hasn’t ventured out of the house either.

He won’t tell them that the sunshine and blue skies oppressed him.  Sunshine and blue skies are meant to be energising and cheering but they have just made him feel guilty and inadequate for not being energised and cheered.  He has enough guilt and sense of inadequacy without adding to them.

Today, however, is overcast and cool.  _Outside_ doesn’t seem quite as daunting.  He thinks he can cope with _outside_ today.  He has seen the lake from the library window and felt a little drawn to it: it doesn’t seem to be a beautiful lake; he doesn’t think he can cope with beauty at the moment.  Somehow, he thinks that is wrong.  Shouldn’t natural beauty be something that soothes and heals a battered soul?  Perhaps.  But it won’t work for this particular battered soul.  Looking into the murky depths will suit his mood.

It takes him a long time to get to his destination.  He wants to find somewhere out of the way.  Somewhere out of the line of sight of the building: he doesn’t want to risk a helpful member of staff hastening after him with offers of drinks, blankets or newspapers.

Once he is sitting down, he decides the lake is all he hoped it would be.  The lack of sun means there are no reflections or refracted light to dance and bewitch.  An occasional duck swims across but there is clearly something more attractive on the other side, and they keep on going and refrain from their normal cheerful acrobatics … or should that be aquabatics?  He doesn’t know although he knows people who would know.

And then he realises he is no longer alone.  He hasn’t been watching or particularly aware, but it seems that he can’t stop the habit of a working life; he has always had good situational awareness and it has saved his life, and those of others, on many occasions.

So, of course, he knows that the girl is there.  And he realises that he has seen her before.  Lurking in the background, watchful, waiting.  Waiting for what?  He recognises something in her: he knows what that sort of watchfulness portends.  This is a lonely child, one used to having to make their own way.  Oh yes, she looks well dressed and cared for but there is another type of hunger about her that he is all too familiar with.

She is making some sort of garland for herself.  Such an innocent pastime for a young girl.  It could, he muses, be a scene from a movie.  He finds himself casting himself as the father, sitting gazing across the water as he also watches over his daughter, waiting for her to bring him the necklace and perhaps throw it over his own neck.  He would perhaps protest but the audience would know that, in reality, his heart was warmed by her actions.

He wonders if anyone watching them would think that they are father and daughter, sitting in a companionable silence because their relationship is such that words are not needed.  He finds himself warmed by the thought.  Relationships have never been his strong point but, for a moment, he allows himself to be lulled into a dream of love and belonging.

He is snapped out of his daydream by the sound of a sigh.  He automatically turns in its direction and frowns as the dream collapses and reality roars in.

The girl is on her feet in an instant.  The flowers fall from her hands and he sees that her work has been clumsy.  She stands and stares at him and then turns to go – but slowly, as if she hopes to be detained.  She pauses for a second and then she really is gone leaving a miasma of grief hanging in the air.

He drags himself slowly to his feet, but the girl is long gone, and he doesn’t know what he would say to her anyway.  The attraction of the place has somehow faded with his emergence from the dream, so he decides to return to the house.  He stoops and picks up the half-made garland.  He winces at the pain involved with such a simple action.  He wonders if Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo will ever be _special_ again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Tony walks slowly back to the house, the garland of wilting flowers in one hand.  As he crosses a small bridge he pauses for a moment and then drapes the flowers over a post by the path before moving on slowly once more.

A few moments later, the girl emerges from her hiding place in the bushes by the post and carefully picks up the flowers.  She gazes after him thoughtfully before grinning and running back towards her uncle and aunt’s cottage.

Cassie is on the reception desk when Tony returns and she smiles at him – cautiously, because up to now it has seemed that friendliness offends him,

“Good afternoon, Mr DiNozzo,” she says politely.

“Hi,” says Tony.

Cassie hides her surprise: this is the most he has engaged with her since his arrival.

“Can I get you anything?” she asks, “Would you like me to book you a table in the restaurant?”  She would like to point out that all the meals are included in the charge for his stay and also to point out that, so far, he has hardly eaten anything.  It seems, however that dining in the restaurant is a step too far and a spasm of something unidentifiable crosses his face.

“No,” he says, and then apparently digging deep for politeness adds, “Thank you.”

“We do room service,” Cassie offers tentatively.  She knows he knows this, but she almost feels motherly towards this … she doesn’t know how to put a word to his air of vulnerability and sadness.

“No,” Tony shakes his head and then stops.  He has automatically and instinctively turned the offer down, but he suddenly realises that he is hungry for the first time in days … weeks.  “Actually, do you have pizza?”  He frowns a little as he thinks that pizza might be too _common_ for this upmarket establishment.

Cassie feels that she would drive into town herself to get pizza for this poor soul but, fortunately, the sacrifice is not needed, “Oh yes,” she says happily, “Chef loves to make pizza but …” she leans forward in a confidential manner, “… he doesn’t get asked for it often.  What sort would you like?”

Tony is about to ask for his usual sausage, pepperoni and extra cheese but his stomach lurches at the thought.  He decides not to explore the reasons for that reaction – like much that he is not examining too closely at the moment.

Cassie senses his indecision, “Chef makes a lovely Four Seasons pizza,” she suggests.

“Pizza Quattro Stagioni,” says Tony.

“Excuse me?”

“That’s Four Seasons pizza in Italian,” explains Tony.  And he smiles, a somewhat tentative rusty smile but it inadvertently completes his conquest of Cassie.  “That would be fine,” he says.

“With a side salad?” says Cassie hopefully.  Somehow, she feels that healthy eating would be good for this man.

“Sure,” says Tony briefly.  In truth, he is suddenly tired of the subject which has begun to feel like _fussing,_ and he won’t mind if Chef isn’t able to produce his _lovely_ pizza.

Cassie has been working on reception for years and is accustomed to picking up the vibes from guests.  She realises that the brief moment of accord has ended, and she simply promises that it will be with him in 30 minutes.

He nods and moves away to the elevator.  Cassie watches him go and thinks that he walks like someone 30 years older than his actual age.

NCISNCIS

Cassie would deny any accusation of fussing but the next day she makes a point of asking the room staff if the occupier of suite 6 ate the meal delivered to his room.  She tries to be cheered by the report that he’d eaten half of the pizza and some of the salad.

The next two days are bright and sunny and Tony once again lurks indoors.  He has found a favourite place in the library, tucked in a corner but with a clear exit path and where he can see but not be easily seen.  He has no particular sense of being in danger but the habits of securing an exit route are strong and, initially, he picked that spot almost without realising what he had done.

The corner spot has the advantage of having a view of the terrace and he occasionally spots the girl standing on the edge looking at a loss.  He wonders why she doesn’t come inside and why she doesn’t seem to associate with children of the other guests.  He frowns at that thought and also wonders why he never sees her with an adult.  He remembers when Senior left him behind in the hotel in Hawaii and considers the possibility that she too has been left behind but he dismisses that thought: he can’t imagine that Cassie wouldn’t have noticed a stray child.  The apparent mystery teases the edges of his investigative brain and he isn’t sure whether to welcome this as a good sign or not.

The third day also dawns bright and clear but the corner spot in the library does not look inviting and so Tony decides to venture out.  He still walks slower than he would wish, and he finds his feet taking him to the lake once more where he lowers himself gingerly to the ground and settles to looking across the water.  Today, however, the sun dances off the surface, there are birds singing and the ducks seem less intent on swimming past but keep bobbing down in search of whatever it is that ducks seek underwater.  It is not long before he becomes aware that he has company; he turns his head in the direction of the girl and manages a nod of greeting.

The girl nods back and then bends to her task.  Tony notes that she is once again trying to make a flower chain and finds a smile trying to break through.

As before, a mutual contentment seems to grow around the two: apparently each lost in their own world but actually aware of the other’s presence.  They have been in place for an hour or so when Tony decides he is getting stiff sitting on the ground and begins to worry about getting up again.  He stirs tentatively and gasps in pain as his muscles protest.

The girl’s head whips around at the noise but she doesn’t move immediately.  Tony breathes through the pain and tries once more to get up: he gets halfway but then tumbles back to the ground.  She is on her feet immediately but before she can move, she thinks she hears some rustling in the undergrowth: she hesitates in case adult help is on its way but when the noise ceases, she runs towards him.

She places a tentative hand on his arm and wonders what to do.  She sees his face creased in pain, puts her hand to it gently and then says,

“Wait here!  I’ll get help.”

Part of him wants her to stay, he finds that he doesn’t want to be alone.  Part of her wants to stay so that he is not alone.  The moment of reluctance passes and she speeds away on light feet.  She runs to find Uncle Mark who she knows is supervising practice on the putting green behind the house.

“Uncle Mark!  Uncle Mark!” she calls.

A middle-aged man and woman in matching golf sweaters and caps look up in annoyance as they fluff what were already going to be poor shots.

Uncle Mark looks both irritated and surprised; his niece is usually well behaved around the guests.

“The man!  The man … he’s ill,” she cries.

“A guest?” asks Mark.  He says this loudly so that the middle-aged man and woman will understand the cause of the disruption to their pleasure.

The girl nods frantically.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Mark says to his pupils, “Why not go back to practising shorter putts?  _About two inches should be all right_ ,” he adds in an inaudible undertone.

Mark seizes his niece’s hand and allows her to pull him where she wants to go.  He gasps when he sees Mr DiNozzo, the guest his wife has taken an interest in.  As they draw near, Tony manages to sit up, his face is pale and sweaty, and his hands are trembling.

“Mr DiNozzo!” says Mark, “What happened?  Are you OK?”

“Of course he’s not OK, Uncle Mark,” snaps the girl, “He fainted!”

Tony looks offended by this, “DiNozzos don’t pass out,” he protests, “I was just a little dizzy …”

“Sir?” asked Mark, “Do I need to get a doctor?”

Tony looks even more offended at this, “A doctor?  No, I’m fine … or I will be.  I guess I shouldn’t have sat on the ground so long.  I stiffened up a bit.”

“More than a bit, I’d say,” said Mark but he thinks any danger is past.  The man’s colour is returning and the snarkiness is probably a good sign too.  “Felicity, wait here.  I’m going to get the golf cart and bring it down.”

“There’s no need,” says Tony, “I can …”

“With respect, Sir,” says Mark firmly, “I don’t think you can.  It’s no trouble and …”

“It means that he doesn’t have to go back and teach the Horrors how to putt,” puts in Felicity.

Mark rolls his eyes at this but, to Tony’s surprise, he doesn’t protest.  “I won’t be long and the _Hopgoods_ will be fine on their own for a while.  Will you be OK?”

Tony opens his mouth to reassure him but closes it when he realises that the question is directed to the girl.  She nods seriously and sits down next to Tony with the air of a guard dog.  Tony finds the smile trying to break through again.

“So,” he says when they are alone, “Felicity, eh?”

Felicity looks discontented, “Hah!  I think it was a joke.”

“Excuse me?”

“Felicity means …”

“Happiness, joy,” supplies Tony who likes to think that his word power is greater than some people might think.

“Exactly,” says the girl moodily.

“You’ll have to explain,” says Tony.  He had thought that his investigative powers were returning but he finds they are unequal to this situation.

“I don’t think parents should be allowed to name their children,” she says, “Or perhaps not permanently.  They should give temporary names and then when you’re older, you can choose what you want to be called.”

“How old?”  Felicity frowns so Tony goes on, “How old do you think you should be when you get to choose your permanent name?”

“12,” comes the firm answer.

“Ah.  And how old are you?”

“12,” comes the somewhat unsurprising response.

“If I’d chosen a new name when I was 12,” says Tony thoughtfully, “I’d have probably gone for Clint … or Basil …”

“Why?”

“I liked Clint Eastwood … and I had a thing for Basil Rathbone as Sherlock Holmes.”

“You don’t look like a Clint.  Basil might be OK.”

Tony is a little shaken at the thought that he might look like a Basil but decides to ignore this in favour of finding out why Felicity dislikes her name so much, “I think Felicity is a pretty name,” he offers but receives something of a glare in return, “I’m sure your parents thought about it a lot,” he continues, “Perhaps it was because you arriving made them so happy?”

“I don’t think so,” says Felicity, “My Dad wasn’t around and my Mom …” she trails off, “But I don’t think it’s fair … how did your parents choose your name?”

Tony winces, “Ah, well they just called me after my Dad.  But why don’t you like Felicity?”

“It’s a burden,” she replies, “With _happy_ as a name, that’s what people expect you to be.  And when you’re not they tease you.  It’s not fair.”

Tony thinks about asking her if she is unhappy, but he doesn’t because somehow, he knows the answer.  Felicity does not have the air of a _joyful_ child.  “I think you have to stick to your name,” he says, “’cos what you like when you’re one age you might not like ten years on.  I’m kinda glad I didn’t get to change my name when I was 12.  Clint DiNozzo doesn’t sound right, does it?”

“What is your first name?”

“Anthony although most people call me Tony.”

Felicity’s measuring gaze has something of pity in it and Tony suspects that she thinks Clint DiNozzo has a better ring than Anthony.  “Who calls you Anthony?” she asks.

Tony’s face softens at the thought of one person at least who calls him by his full name, “A friend,” he says, “A good friend.”  His face hardens a little, however, at the amount of _fussing_ a certain medical person is capable of.  “What do you want to be called?” he asks in a bid to distract himself from memories of being fussed over.

Felicity doesn’t have to think about this and a rapt expression dawns on her face,

“Cornelia … or … Violetta … or Sch- Scheherazade.”

“Wow, you’ve given this some thought.”

Further discussion about names comes to a halt as Mark returns with the golf buggy which he parks as close to Tony as possible.  He helps Tony get to his feet and Tony is grateful for silence, a strong arm, lack of fuss … and a golf buggy to take him the short distance back to the house.

Felicity runs alongside, ready and eager to run any necessary errands but it seems that Mark has alerted his wife and the in-house doctor who are waiting at the door.  Tony thinks about brushing them off but doesn’t – partly because he knows this would be foolish and partly because he sees the anxiety on Felicity’s face.

Mark extends his arm for Tony to hold on to as he climbs down from the buggy and Tony is annoyed to realise how much he needs it.  He knows he is fading fast but he manages a smile for Felicity,

“Thanks, Flick.”

Felicity stops bouncing, “Flick?”

But Tony is being shepherded into the house and doesn’t hear.

“Flick?” she says again to her aunt who is watching the progress.

“Yes, Dear,” says Cassie, “It’s a nickname.”

“A nickname?” breathes Felicity, “I’ve got a nickname?” and she wanders away in a dream.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony would like to be left alone but he knows there is no chance of that so, deciding to conserve what little energy he has, he submits to the ministrations of the in-house doctor: he wonders why a country club needs a full-time physician and hopes that the current occupant of the role isn’t simply marking time before a licence is reinstated after some sort of misconduct.  He broods gloomily over the possibility that the doctor is so incompetent that this is the only place he has been able to find employment.

Dr Plummer’s appearance doesn’t do much to reassure him.  He is middle-aged, expensively dressed and has a manner which seems designed not to ruffle the feathers of any hypochondriac patient – of whom Tony suspects he sees many.  Tony almost expects him to rub his hands together in the manner of the Uriah Heap characters he has seen in the movies of ‘David Copperfield.’

“Ah, Mr DiNozzo,” he coos, “I understand you met with an accident … dear, dear.”

“No,” says Tony flatly, “I got stiff sitting on the ground.  When I tried to get up, I fell down again.”

Dr Plummer’s eyes narrow slightly at this undramatic response.  He tries again, “I have details of your medical condition from Dr Bollard …”

“Mallard,” Tony corrects him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Dr Mallard, not Bollard.”  Tony decides not to add any explanations about the various forms of mallard which exist.

“Ah,” says Dr Plummer, “Yes, I see – Mallard,” he looks at a folder he produces from his case, “Yes, Dr Mallard has provided details of the injuries you sustained during your ordeal.  Dear me, how long did …”

“100 hours.”

“And you were in hospital for …”

“30 days.”

Dr Plummer raises an eyebrow at Tony’s way of describing the lengths of time but doesn’t comment on it.  “Very well.  Now, I don’t think you will have exacerbated any of the damage, but I’d like to do a quick examination to make sure.”

Tony nods, he thinks that the doctor is adjusting his approach as he sees that Tony is neither exaggerating or revelling in his injuries.

“This may hurt a little,” says Plummer.

Tony wonders why doctors always say this and why it is almost always untrue.  Dr Plummer’s investigation hurts more than a little but it is mercifully brief.

“Right,” says Dr Plummer, “I think you may have some more bruising tomorrow from your tumble.  I don’t think you have done any severe damage but the muscles in your back have gone into spasm – probably from sitting on the ground in a somewhat contorted position.  It was that which caused you to fall.  Now, I will give you an injection now to relieve the immediate pain and prescribe some anti-inflammatories to help the muscles relax,” he seems to sense that Tony is about to speak so hurries on, “I see that Dr Mallard has indicated that you are intolerant of a number of painkillers and has listed those which are acceptable.  I will make sure I don’t give you anything which will make you …” he peers at Ducky’s notes once more, “ _loopy_ ”. 

He smiles a surprisingly engaging smile and Tony relaxes.  He decides that the doctor has adopted a persona which suits most of his patients but that it is something of a mask hiding his true abilities.  Tony knows all about masks and feels it would be hypocritical to dislike the doctor for doing what Tony himself is apt to do.

“And,” Dr Plummer continues, “I would suggest that you have daily sessions with Hanna.”

Tony raises an eyebrow in question.

“Hanna is a physiotherapist specialising in sports injuries.  She’s based here.  I recommend that a daily massage will help bring the muscles out of spasm.  Shall I arrange it?”

Tony nods: at the moment he would agree to anything just to be left alone.

“Good.  Now, perhaps you would like to get into bed, and I will administer the injection: it will not make you _loopy,_ but it will make you sleepy and it might be easier already to be in bed.  Do you need help getting undressed?”

Tony shakes his head, “No … so long as you’re not in a hurry?”

There is a brief return to Uriah Heapness as Plummer says, “I’m at your disposal, Mr DiNozzo.”

Tony manages to remove his shirt and, eventually, his pants but he looks at his socks in despair.  He wishes either his legs were shorter or his arms longer.  Dr Plummer is unfazed and gently pulls the socks off and helps Tony into his pyjamas.  The injection is swiftly administered and, as promised, Tony’s awareness fades away and he is only vaguely conscious of the covers being tenderly pulled over him and the door quietly closing.

NCISNCIS

Tony awakes the next morning to find his new pills ready on his nightstand.  He thinks for a moment that he will forgo the tablets but then stretches his legs and feels the pain – he quickly swallows the pills.

It isn’t long before Hanna arrives to escort him to her treatment room.  She speaks with a slight accent which she informs him is Polish before sweeping on in an authoritative manner,

“I thought it would be best to do the massage early.  I will be gentle, but you may wish to shower or bath afterwards and there is no point in doing so twice.”

Tony nods in a fascinated way.  Hanna is older, shorter and thinner than he had expected, and he is glad to hear that she intends to be gentle.  He is also grateful that she does not comment on the healing wounds on his body.  She starts work and gives a running commentary which he largely tunes out although he finds the chatter oddly soothing.  He suspects that’s the intention.

He is feeling more relaxed than he has for longer than he can remember when there comes a business-like rap on the door before the club manager strides through,

“Mr DiNozzo,” he says in a breathless manner as he strides to the head of the table on which Tony is laying, “I’ve come to apologise.”

Tony squints up at him.  He wonders if the massage has softened up his brain as well as his muscles because he can’t make sense of this.  Fortunately, Mr Askew doesn’t need any response.

“You can rest assured that I will make sure nothing of this kind occurs again,” he continues.

“Ah,” says Tony.  It is unclear if this is in reply to Askew or a reaction to Hanna’s prodding of his back.

“Quite,” says Askew who is unable to believe that he is not the most important person in the room and that the _Ah_ was not directed to him.

Tony tries to pull himself together, “Quite what?”

“We allowed her to stay as a favour.  And we made it quite clear that she was not to engage with the guests.  This is an adult only centre and I think it is clear that we should have maintained that.  I can only …”

“Ah,” says Tony again.

“Do not worry, Mr DiNozzo, I intend …”

“I wondered why there weren’t any kids around,” said Tony, “Didn’t realise that it was adults only.”

“Indeed,” says Askew proudly, “Our guests come here for peace and quiet and that can hardly be guaranteed with _children_ around.  And I think yesterday’s _incident_ reinforces that view.”

“You spoken to Dr Plummer?” asks Tony in a somewhat muffled voice as Hanna has just rearranged his head.

“No.  Well, yes but he would not divulge any details about your condition,” says Askew in a disgruntled tone.

Tony is impressed by the doctor’s willingness to protect his privacy.

“But Mr and Mrs Hopgood have complained that the girl interrupted their putting practice.  Mrs Hopgood felt quite debilitated from nervous shock afterwards.”

Tony takes a while to remember that Mark had apparently been called away from teaching the _Horrors_ so he deduces, in a way Gibbs would be proud of, that Askew thinks that Felicity was in some way to blame for him needing medical attention.

“Mr Askew,” he says, “Did you think that the _girl_ was the cause of my being …” Tony stops because he isn’t sure how he wants to describe what had happened.

“Certainly.  And don’t worry, Mr DiNozzo, I will have severe words with the girl’s aunt and uncle.  You won’t be troubled again, I assure you.”

“But I want to be troubled,” says Tony.

“Excuse me?”

“Felicity – that’s the girl, by the way – wasn’t responsible for my … _tumble._   She just happened to be nearby, and she ran for help.  Without her, I could have been lying there for a long time.  I’m most grateful to her.”  Tony hopes he would actually have been able to get up by himself, but he is annoyed by Mr Skewed (as he now thinks of him) and wants to lay it on thick.

“Well …”

“And,” says Tony warming to his task, “I want to say thank you to her uncle as well.  He provided exemplary care.  I’m sure he must be one of your most valued employees.”  Tony smiles a sweet but untrustworthy smile.

“I see,” says Askew, who probably doesn’t.

“Good,” says Tony and he turns his head away from Askew in a dismissive way.

“I’m glad we sorted that out,” says Askew, “And that you’re happy with the service you’ve been getting.”

“Hmph,” mutters Tony in a noncommittal way.

Askew backs out of the room.  Hanna laughs.

“That was fun,” says Tony thoughtfully.

NCISNCIS

The anti-inflammatories and massages help ease Tony’s pain, but he still doesn’t leave the house for a couple of days.  He returns to his place in the library and is vaguely disappointed not to see Felicity lurking on the terrace.

On the third day, however, he decides he’s ready to taste the fresh air again.  Cassie sees him about to set out and hurries over,

“I hope you don’t mind,” she says, “But Mark – my husband – put a chair out for you down by the lake.  It might be better than sitting on the ground.”

Tony is about to protest but then acknowledges that this is a good idea so nods acceptance instead.

“I haven’t seen Flick … I mean, Felicity around,” he says casually.

“We thought it was better if she stayed away,” says Cassie quietly, “The Hopgoods were rather _vocal_ about being disturbed.”

“I told Mr Skewed …” Cassie giggles but soon recovers herself, “That she had done well,” says Tony, “And that she was no trouble.”

“Thank you, Mr DiNozzo, that was kind of you,” says Cassie gratefully.

“Felicity says that her Dad’s not around,” probes Tony gently, trying not to wish he had an evidence notebook in his hand.

Cassie sighs, “No.  He’s never been on the scene, I’m afraid.  Alison – that’s Felicity’s mother – never talks about him.”

“And Fl-Felicity is staying with you?  Is her Mom here too?”

“Um, no.  Alison can’t have Felicity with her at the moment.  So she’s staying with us.”

There is something in Cassie’s tone and facial expression which sets off an alarm with Tony; up until now, Cassie has been bright-eyed and confident but there is obviously (to Tony at any rate) something hinky about her niece’s presence with them.  Tony reminds himself that this is none of his business; he is here to get well not to be nosy or allow himself to be distracted from confronting the horror of what he has recently been through, so he nods as if this is all perfectly reasonable.  He makes to move on, but Cassie speaks again,

“If you want a change of scene, Mark is taking the buggy around to the golf course on the other side of the lake.  He needs to change the position of the hole on the fifteenth green.  He said that he could give you a ride and you could sit for a while … or maybe take a walk, you know, until he finishes.  He’ll bring you back in time for lunch.”

Tony doesn’t actually like being driven on golf buggies and he is not sure that the swaying motion will be kind to his back, but he realises that he’s not quite ready to let go of this small mystery, so he decides to accept the offer.  Before he can say anything, however, he hears the sound of bird song coming through the open window.  Hoping he has identified the song of a Yellow Warbler correctly, he makes his excuses,

“I think I’ll just potter around the grounds here today,” he says apologetically, “First day out and all, you know.  But say thanks … and perhaps tomorrow?”

“OK,” says Cassie, “Will you be back for lunch?”

“Expect so,” says Tony as he walks away.  The mystery of Flick’s mom will have to wait for another time.


	4. Chapter 4

Director Vance is waiting for Agent Gibbs when he walks into the squad room,

“My office.”

Agent Gibbs stows his gun in his desk drawer and takes a refreshing sip of his coffee before nodding in agreement.  He turns to the other members of his team and says, “You too.”

The MCRT follows the Director in silence and he does not speak until they are all in his office and the door firmly closed.

“How was DiNozzo?” he asks.

“You went to see Tony?” asks Agent Ellie Bishop with a hint of reproach in her voice.

“How was he?” asks Agent Tim McGee.

 “He’s fine …” Gibbs pauses in the interests of honesty, “… or he will be,” he amends.

“Any problems?” asks Vance.

“He was a bit stiff,” says Gibbs, “Think he pulled a muscle or something in his back.”

“How?” asks Bishop anxiously.

“Near as I can tell, by sitting on the ground,” says Gibbs drily.

“What?” ask McGee and Bishop in unison.

“It’s DiNozzo,” says Gibbs simply and, oddly, that seems to satisfy them.

“Any problems?” asks Vance.

“None that I could see,” replies Gibbs.

“Is he going stir crazy yet?” asks McGee.

Gibbs considers this question: it‘s not an unreasonable query as DiNozzo isn’t known for being a good patient … or for having any sort of patience.  “No,” he says finally, “Don’t think it’ll be long though.  He says he spent the first few days indoors but then started getting out a bit more … although the thing with the back has set him back.  But he looked …”

“What?” prompts Ellie, “What did he look like?”

“Bit more like himself,” says Gibbs finally.

McGee and Bishop sigh in relief.  Some people wouldn’t think that Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo getting back to being more like himself was a good thing but his co-workers aren’t among that number.  Tony’s listlessness and apathy while in the hospital had been disconcerting and worrying.  They fall silent as they remember how Tony had become _unlike himself_.

Tony had been working on an op with the FBI – much to Gibbs’ disquiet – when it had all gone wrong.  Tony and three other FBI agents had been about to take down a group of people smugglers when they had been spotted.  The criminals had been better armed than expected and had swiftly killed two of the FBI agents and badly injured the other.  They had taken Tony with them and held him for more than 4 days (the 100 hours Tony had told Dr Plummer) trying to get him to spill the amount of intel the FBI had on them.

Gibbs and the MCRT, with Fornell trailing somewhat apologetically behind them, had finally managed to track a battered Tony down: in the gun fight to rescue him he had also been shot.  Tony was naturally resilient but the abuse he had suffered had worn him down and, having resorted to silence as his defence against his captors, had seemed reluctant or unwilling to start talking again.  A silent Tony was definitely a Tony outside his co-workers’ experience.

Dr Cranston had been enlisted to come in and counsel Tony as he came to terms with that he had endured.  To everyone’s relief she determined that he wasn’t suffering from PTSD but was in a state of shock which, hopefully, would wear off if he was allowed to recuperate somewhere quiet and tranquil.

In other circumstances, Gibbs might simply have taken Tony off to his cabin as somewhere supremely quiet, but the circumstances were not right.  For one thing, Gibbs’ spartan cabin was not conducive to a physical recovery and for another, it was not certain that NCIS and the FBI had captured all the people smugglers and it was feared they might make another attempt on DiNozzo’s life.

It had been decided, therefore, to move Tony to an exclusive country club resort near Winchester, Virginia once he had been released from hospital.  The Four Seasons Resort was the favoured resort for worn out pop and movie stars or business people seeking privacy for negotiating highly sensitive deals.  It didn’t advertise itself and if potential clients needed to know the cost of staying there it probably meant they couldn’t afford it.  The resort was well used to housing wealthy people who required absolute privacy.  Access was limited to one road which meant that it was easy to keep under observation.  Director Vance had no qualms about charging the cost of Agent DiNozzo’s stay to the FBI.

So, Tony had been driven to the Four Seasons but not told of the theoretical remaining danger.  It had been decided there was no point in telling him: he was not allowed to carry a firearm until he was fit for duty once more and Dr Cranston had ruled that adding to his anxiety would be detrimental to his psychological wellbeing.  Gibbs had undertaken to visit occasionally both to check on the security surrounding the resort and on the recovery of his agent.  The call of a Yellow Warbler had been designated as the signal to Tony that his Boss had arrived.

“How much more like himself?” asks Vance, bringing them all back to the present.

“Well,” says Gibbs mischievously, “He’s found himself a girl …”

NCIS

Felicity sees the chair put in Tony’s usual place and hopes that he will arrive: she has missed him the last couple of days although she is hard pressed to understand quite why.  She waits on the other side of the lake to see if he will come and is pleased when she sees him apparently on his way.  She is surprised, and disappointed, when he veers away and plunges into the wooded area instead.

Felicity has some Gibbs-like skills and changes position silently so she can spot Tony; she reasons that she is concerned for him and decides to ignore the possibility that she is simply being nosy.  She gasps when she sees a stranger and wonders how an intruder has managed to make his way on to the estate, but her worries subside when it seems that Tony knows the silver-haired man. 

Tony shakes hands with the stranger and then leans against a tree to talk to him.  Felicity is a people watcher; in what has sometimes been a precarious life watchfulness has served her well.  She is puzzled by what she sees this time: Tony seems to know this new arrival but is not particularly relaxed with him, there are no smiles and his arms are folded against his chest in a defensive way.  The visitor also does not smile but Felicity thinks that, whatever else his feelings may be, he is concerned about Tony.

The meeting is brief and, in a moment during which Felicity had looked away, the silver-haired man has disappeared through the woods.  Tony looks thoughtful and stays where he is for a few moments, a few moments during which the expression on his face makes Felicity feel she is intruding on something which Tony would want to be private.  She turns away and goes to sit in the place she has sat on the two previous occasions she and Tony were by the lake together.

The rustle of leaves warns her that Tony is coming: she wonders if, when he is fit and well, he also has stealth skills like his visitor, but somehow, she thinks it’s likely that Tony always makes a noise.

Unlike the previous silent occasions, Tony speaks to her as he passes on his way to the chair,

“Morning, Flick.”

“Hello, Mr DiNozzo,” she replies politely.

“Huh.  You don’t need to call me Mr DiNozzo,” he invites, “Tony is OK.”

She looks doubtful, “Mr Askew wouldn’t like that.”

“Hmm.  Well, in the unlikely event that I am near enough to Mr Sk-Askew for him to hear what you call me, then make sure you call me Mr DiNozzo.”

“Or Sir,” she suggests.

“Even better,” he agrees.  He pauses, wondering if he should say something else but he is still no natural with children so, after a nod, walks to the carefully placed chair and sits down with a grateful sigh.  He looks across at Felicity who does not seem disconcerted by this but who bends her head to a book.  Felicity has a look that reminds him of his own childhood: the look of someone hungry for love and acceptance, he wonders if she is also being _warehoused_ in the way he once accused his father of doing with him.

He sighs and decides to shelve the issue of the girl for the time being and lets his gaze drift to watching the water once more.  He finds his thoughts going back to the meeting with Gibbs and trying to work out what it was that the Boss _wasn’t_ saying.

Tony acknowledges to himself (although he might deny it if challenged) that he hadn’t been at his best when he arrived at Four Seasons.  He had accepted the need to be move without any real question and simply been glad to be somewhere that was not hospital, but which was both quiet and comfortable.  He hadn’t challenged the absence of his phone and laptop or being sent somewhere a couple of hours’ drive from DC.  In fact, for the first few days of his stay (and again this is something he would not admit to) he had been too anxious to leave the house and had been prone to jumping at any sudden noise.

Now, however, as his body began to recover its energy, he found his mind was also engaging more and he was becoming more aware of the strangeness of his situation.  The first sign of the re-engagement with the world had been his interest in what was probably just a trivial mystery surrounding Flick.  He finds he is also more curious about his own position and this curiosity has grown since the conversation with Gibbs.

Tony shakes his head: _conversation_ is probably not the right word!  Gibbs had asked how he was, why he was walking even more gingerly than when he had been deposited at the country club and, following Ducky’s instructions, if he was following doctors’ orders.  Tony’s questions about how the charges were going against his kidnappers were greeted with non-answers and he was told that everything was _in hand_ and that all DiNozzo had to do was get better.  Tony hopes that’s because he’s missed but he hadn’t pushed his luck and asked for a declaration of undying love.

Tony’s request for a phone and/or a laptop was brushed off, but Gibbs did produce his watch: this had surprised Tony because he had assumed it had been lost or destroyed during his ordeal.  Gibbs had told him, however, that Abby had simply been working on it and had insisted it be sent to him with her love.

Tony looks at the watch on his wrist and feels that, somehow, it reconnects him to the outside world where time is moving on.  He wonders why Gibbs has to visit in such secrecy but acknowledges to himself that secrecy is Gibbs’ default setting.  He doesn’t let that thought go and applies his mind to the problem and decides, somewhat reluctantly, that he has been stashed in this luxurious setting because he is still under threat and that it has been decided that he can be guarded here more easily: somehow he can’t imagine that Vance would willingly spring for the cost of him being here unless there was no other option.

A few days ago, the conclusion that he is still in danger would have worried him, but Tony finds he hasn’t quite got the energy yet to be agitated.  He decides that NCIS have found him somewhere good to be and that, for the moment at least, he will trust that they have his six.  At the back of his mind, he lodges the thought that he reserves the right to reverse that judgement once his brain is fully in gear.

He has just reached that conclusion when he becomes aware that Cassie is walking towards him with a covered tray.

“Mr DiNozzo,” she says, “I thought you might like something for lunch.  Just a couple of sandwiches and some juice.  Oh, and some tiramisu … you know, once chef found out you have an Italian name, he’s gone off on an Italian theme.”

Tony isn’t hungry but can’t bring himself to be rude so he nods politely and thinks that the ducks might do well that afternoon – although they might not get the tiramisu.

Cassie leaves him the tray and walks over to Felicity: she speaks softly but Tony’s quick hearing picks up that she is reminding her niece that she has sandwiches and a drink in her backpack.  Felicity nods a little abstractedly.  Cassie looks down on her and then walks away.

Tony finds he has a moment of epiphany.  The look in Cassie’s eyes is one of yearning love and he realises that Mark and Cassie are probably not looking after their niece just out of duty but out of love.  He suspects that Felicity is unaware of this: she is looking for love somewhere else and not seeing that love of another kind is all around her.

Tony eats one of his sandwiches and notes, that in the time he has managed one, Felicity has devoured her whole packed lunch.  Not for the first time, he sighs: he thinks it is likely that if he was fully fit, Flick would rival even him for speed of eating.

“Flick,” he calls.

She looks up eagerly.

“You want one of my sandwiches?”

She looks uncertain, wondering what Auntie Cassie would say if she ate his nutritious meal.  She may also be wondering if Mr Askew will suddenly appear and scold her for eating a guest’s food.

“It’s OK” reassures Tony, “If you don’t eat it, the ducks will.”

Felicity likes the ducks but likes food even more, so this is a clinching argument.  She springs to her feet with an agility Tony envies and takes the offered sandwich.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You’re welcome, Flick … Felicity.”

“I don’t mind Flick,” she says trying to be nonchalant.

“You sure?  Not everyone likes my nicknames.”

“I don’t mind.  Nobody has ever given me a nickname before.”

In his mind, Tony can hear McGee’s voice shouting frantically, “ _Don’t encourage him!”_   He shakes his head and grins.

“What?” asks Flick who, understandably, has not heard the voice and is puzzled at the headshake.

“Oh,” says Tony, “I have a co-worker who isn’t so keen on nicknames.  I was imagining what he would say.”

“You work?”

“Sure,” says Tony in surprise, “Why would you ask that?”

“Lots of people here don’t,” says Flick, “You know, because they’re really rich or something.  Are you rich?”

“Not particularly,” says Tony.

“Oh.”

Tony isn’t sure what the tone of voice means: he can’t decide if it’s relief or disappointment.  He decides to devote himself to the tiramisu as a more tractable mystery and tells himself it probably has alcohol in it and so shouldn’t be offered to children.  Once again, he hears McGee’s incredulity at the possibility of Tony willingly sharing food.

Flick goes back to her previous position after finishing off Tony’s lunch and they revert to their curious silent companionship.  Two lonely people finding comfort in one another’s company.

As the afternoon draws on, Mark arrives with a suggestion that Felicity might want to earn a little pocket money by searching for lost golf balls in the rough of the golf course.  His niece doesn’t look too excited at the prospect until Tony says very casually,

“I used to do that when I was a kid.  Got me interested in golf as well.  Although I had to be careful …”

“Why?” asks Felicity.

“One time, I picked up the ball and it turned out it wasn’t a lost ball at all!  The club chairman and the secretary were playing a real needle match and I spoiled it.  Boy, they were mad …”  Tony smiles although he remembers, at the time, that it had been most alarming.

Felicity, however, is charmed by the story and now seems to feel that searching for lost balls is something worthy of her time.  She scurries off, determined to make her fortune.

Mark watches her go with the same fond expression that his wife wore earlier.

“She’s a nice kid,” says Tony aiming for a knowledgeable tone although he knows that he is probably one of the people least qualified to make such a judgement.

“Yes,” agrees Mark with a touch of sadness.

He doesn’t seem in a hurry to go back to work so Tony decides this is a good time to delve a little more into what he has decided is the mystery of why Flick is here.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“How long is Felicity going to be with you?” asks Tony.

“We don’t know,” replies Mark, “The summer at least.”

“Then she’ll go to her Mom?”

“That would be good,” says Mark neutrally.

“But unlikely?” presses Tony.  He sees that Mark is reluctant to answer but he decides to give the man an opening.  Once again, he imagines the surprise on his co-workers’ faces if they could see him doing the touchy-feely stuff; he hopes his own surprise is not showing on his face, “You know,” he says, “Sometimes it’s a good idea to talk about a problem … get it out in the open.  And sometimes it’s better to talk to a stranger; someone who doesn’t know the history.”

“And that’s you?”

“If you want.  Flick helped me the other day … hell, you and your wife did too.  Consider it returning the favour.  And don’t worry, I won’t be shocked … believe me, I’ve seen most things in my life.”

Mark is still sceptical but guesses there was probably a subconscious reason for his seeking Tony out,

“OK.  Alison – that’s Felicity’s Mom – is my sister.  She was a good kid, couple years younger than me but we got on OK.  Or as well as brothers and sisters get on when they’re growing up.  I was into sport, but she was the brainy one, wanted to be a librarian and went to college to study.  And that’s when it began to go wrong … she got in with a bad crowd.  Or at least, that’s what my folks prefer to believe …”

“And you don’t?”

“I don’t think you can always blame other people.”

“What was it?  Drink or drugs?” asks Tony shrewdly, this seems a somewhat familiar story.

“Drugs.  Started with _soft_ drugs but then escalated.  Ripped away her dreams – she got to the stage where she’d do anything to get money to buy drugs.  She got pregnant … and by some miracle, stayed off the drugs during the pregnancy.  And she was happy for a while.  I figure that’s why she called her daughter Felicity because she thought she’d be happy at last.”

“Guessing it didn’t last?”

“No.  When Felicity was about 6 months old, she started using again.  Said she was depressed and that’s why she did it.  Who knows?  My Mom and Dad used to look after the baby for her: she couldn’t do it herself.  And since then there’s been a cycle of her trying to get clean, going into rehab, brief periods of having Felicity but then it all falls apart again.  Felicity gets farmed out to whoever will take her … usually our parents or, more often, us but sometimes we’ve found out that she’s with some virtual stranger that Ali has hooked up with.  So far, thank God, it’s always been with someone decent, but we live in dread about where she’ll end up.”

“Does Flick know?”

“No.  Ali manages to keep up a façade with her.  When she leaves her, she tells her it’s because she’s got some new fantastic job and she needs time to settle in before she sends for Felicity.”

“Let me guess, Flick adores her?”

Mark grins ruefully, “Yes.  And to be fair, Ali loves her back but, so far, the addiction has always proved stronger.”

“And where’s your sister this time?”

“Felicity thinks that she’s in Wisconsin …”

“And is she?”

“Yes, but not for a new exciting job but because she’s in a residential rehab scheme.  And if this one doesn’t work she’s likely to go to prison … the court gave her one more chance to put things right or she’ll get a custodial sentence for dealing.”

“I’m sorry,” says Tony feeling inadequate.  It may be a familiar story but it’s still painful to hear.

“Cassie and I don’t have children,” says Mark, “And it seems so unfair that Ali has this wonderful child and … well, Cassie and I would be happy to take Felicity in permanently … it would have to be better than her being …”

“Warehoused,” says Tony.  He sees Mark’s look of surprise, “I know what it’s like,” he explains, “My Dad wasn’t around very much after my Mom died and he didn’t know what to do with me.  I had lots of boarding schools and camps … and not much affection and care.”

“I’m sorry.”

Tony shrugs, “Hey, I survived, and it wasn’t all bad.  But it’s not ideal.  Does Flick know that you’d take her permanently?”

“No.  It’s never seemed right to tell her.  She likes us but she loves her Mom … and I guess we keep hoping that Ali will get her act together.  I think it would finish her if she lost Felicity.”

Tony frowns.  He feels like saying that he wishes someone had _seen_ the young Anthony DiNozzo and put _his_ interests and welfare before that of his father.  “Well,” he begins but at that moment Felicity returns: it turns out that ball hunting hasn’t held her interest for long, it doesn’t seem that she’s very money minded.

“Thanks for listening, Mr DiNozzo,” says Mark swiftly, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

NCISNCIS

Continuation is now the theme. Tony continues to recover slowly over the next few days.  He continues the treatments from Hanna and, in the process, learns so much about the beauties of Poland that he considers taking a vacation there sometime.  Denis Askew continues both to try to hover helpfully and monitor Felicity’s activities.  Almost to spite Askew, Tony continues to sit with Felicity at the lakeside and has also taken to going with her to the golf course to initiate her into the finer shades of searching for lost golf balls.  He isn’t sure he is succeeding but the longer walks are doing good things for his stamina.

Gibbs continues to pay the occasional visit and remains forgetful about bringing Tony’s cell or laptop to him.  He does, however, give good reports on the health of the goldfish who have taken up residence in Abby’s lab for the duration of Tony’s absence.  Tony doesn’t know much about goldfish hearing and hopes his pets are not being traumatized by vibrations from loud music: he consoles himself with thinking that Abby is a leading light of the Humane Society and wouldn’t knowingly inflict any harm on his innocent creatures … he tries not to think what harm she might cause _unwittingly_.

Tony discovers a piano in one of the lounges and loses himself in playing piano for hours at a time: stormy music when he wants to let out his anger and frustration and calmer music when he is trying to come to terms with what happened.  Oddly – or perhaps, not oddly – the music helps him come to terms with his ordeal at the hands of the people smugglers and he finds that he is sleeping better with fewer nightmares.

Mark hears about the piano playing and, on one of Tony’s visits to the golf course, asks him a question that has obviously been puzzling him,

“When does your record come out?”

“Excuse me?”

“I couldn’t figure out what you do … but now I know about the music I reckon you’re some sort of star in the music business.  I thought I recognized you from somewhere, but I don’t watch much TV.”

Tony laughs although he is oddly flattered, “No, I’m not a music star.  I just play for fun … and relaxation.”

“Oh,” says Mark and in his surprise asks what is usually a forbidden question among Four Seasons staff, “What do you do then?”  He realises his slip and apologises, “I’m sorry.  We have a rule; we don’t ask the guests personal questions.  Forget I asked.”

“It’s OK,” says Tony, he has been wondering whether it would be a good idea to let Mark and Cassie know what he does: it might help if they knew that he has experience around dealing with addicts, “I’m a federal agent.”

“A fed?”

“Yep,” Tony is used to people being surprised; he guesses he doesn’t quite fit the stereotype of federal agent.

“Wow, that’s cool.  So, what are you doing here?  I mean, don’t get me wrong but I didn’t think federal agents earned enough to stay at places like this.”

“I’m not paying,” says Tony quickly, “Or at least, I hope I’m not.  My agency is picking up the tab.  I got … injured at work and this is their way of arranging rehab.”

“Hmm.  Well, I’m sorry you got hurt but it worked out well for us.”

“How so?”

“Felicity likes you and that’s made life easier for us.  We want to know where she is and we just look for you.  And now I know you’re a fed that’s even better, we know you’ll keep her out of trouble.”

The phantom voices of his team echo once more in Tony’s head as he imagines them vehemently denying that Tony is a reliable person in this regard.  He shrugs,

“Sure.  Although I’m not up to speed yet so she could probably outrun me if she wanted to.”

Mark smiles a somewhat rueful smile, “Don’t think she wants to get away from you.”  He frowns, “Hmm, I thought I had it figured out with the music … although Cassie didn’t recognise you.”

“Can’t help you,” says Tony, “I don’t think I’ve met you before … which, given my job, is probably a good thing.”  He stoops gingerly and picks up a discarded soda can and lobs it neatly into the trash can ten yards away.  He smiles smugly, this never grows old.

“I know!” exclaims Mark, “You played college basketball!  I remember.  Ohio State was in the Final Four … I saw the game.  You were good.  Good enough to go pro – what happened?”

“Bust my leg and blew out my knee,” says Tony, “Might have come back from one of those but not both.  Had to find something else.”

“Bad luck, man,” says Mark sympathetically.  He claps Tony on the back and then looks around quickly in case Askew is going to jump out from a bush and scold him for over-familiarity.  Tony doesn’t seem to mind, perhaps he enjoys hanging out with someone who is as sports mad as himself.

“Thought I might do some putting practice,” he says, “Don’t think I’m up to any drives yet and putting’s my weakness anyway.”

“Sure,” says Mark easily, “I’ve got some coaching slots free if you want my input … it’ll mean you miss the Hopgoods as well if we time it right.”

“Or the _Nogoods_ ,” suggests Tony.

“You had to put that in my head, didn’t you?  I’ve only just got Felicity calling them the _Horrors_ out.”

“What can I say?  It’s a gift,” says Tony smugly.

NCISNCIS

All in all, Tony thinks things are going well although he feels a certain anxiety around the way he is being corralled by NCIS since he thinks this may be because they think there is still an outstanding threat.  He tries to trust that Gibbs knows what he’s doing and, mostly, that works although occasionally he is jumpy enough that he thinks he sees a figure moving stealthily through the woods.  He reasons, however, that if someone was after him, they would have attacked by now especially as, in the early days of his stay, he was much more vulnerable.  He thinks it’s more likely to be additional federal security – it is unlikely that Gibbs would trust the normal hotel security to be enough.

McGee’s prediction that Tony would go stir crazy is beginning to come true.  Tony is not yet champing at the bit to get away but he is getting restless and, if Gibbs arrived with an order to decamp, he wouldn’t be disappointed although he realises that he will miss the odd companionship with Felicity.  He is sure that Mark is telling him the truth about his sister but wonders if he actually _knows_ the whole truth.

A week after Mark finally identified Tony, Gibbs arrives again but takes Tony by surprise by not summoning him by bird song but by walking up to him openly as he sits by the lake.  As usual, Felicity is sitting a few yards away.

“Boss?” says Tony.  He is sitting in his usual chair, although his back has largely recovered, he still finds sitting on the ground uncomfortable after a while.

“DiNozzo,” returns Gibbs, “Protection duty’s over,” he announces.

“Protection duty?” asks Tony innocently, “I didn’t know there was one.”  Gibbs just stares at him with a raised eyebrow and Tony folds, “OK, I guess I thought there _might_ be something going on.  Some extra security people around and I didn’t quite see why you had to come here all cloak and dagger … although I figured that you probably enjoyed driving here fast and furiously enough to throw off any tails.”

“Uh huh,” says Gibbs tolerantly.

“But it’s over now?”

“Uh huh,” says Gibbs again, this time in a confirmatory way.

“We sure?”

“Uh huh …” but this time Gibbs decides to speak a little, “Rounded up the last possible suspect yesterday.  And I don’t think they’d have been after you anyway.”

“Great.  So I can leave now?”

“Dr Cranston’s coming out again after the weekend.  She wants another session with you to …”

“… make sure I’m sane?”

“Don’t think she’s expecting miracles, DiNozzo!   You weren’t sane before, doubt you will be now.”

“Ha ha!  Guess I walked into that one, huh?”

“She wants to make sure you’re ready to face the world,” says Gibbs a little more sympathetically, “If she gives the green light, you can leave sometime next week.”

“Gibbs?”

“Yeah?”

“How did you persuade the Director to swing for this place?  Must be costing a fortune.  Not that I’m not grateful and all but …”

“I didn’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“Hell, I half thought of dragging you out to my cabin for a spell.”  Tony shudders at the thought: he can cope with Gibbs if there’s a leavening of TV, music and junk food but being stuck alone in the great outdoors with Gibbs would not have been good for either his battered body or psyche.  “But he came up with the idea of charging all this to the FBI …”

“Ah,” says Tony, “That makes more sense.  And I guess that’s why you’re not in a hurry for me to leave?”

For a moment, it seems that Gibbs will keep up with the joshing around but he senses that Tony might need something more, “Want you to get well, Tony.  And there’s no stop watch on that.”

“Thanks, Boss,” Tony smiles gratefully.

Gibbs leaves soon afterwards with a friendly nod to Felicity who looks a little glum at the news that Tony will be leaving soon.  Tony finds himself also feeling a little sad that he will be leaving soon and also a little unsettled that he may never find out exactly what is happening with Alison and her _wonderful job in Wisconsin_.

The larger part of Tony is, however, glad to be leaving and to getting his life back on track.  He will give some thought about how to ease Felicity’s future path but is realistic enough to know that he hasn’t got much expertise in straightening the lives of children.

“Still,” he thinks to himself, “On the home straight now … no more worries.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs,” says Abby excitedly as she rushes up to Gibbs’ desk.

“Abs?” replies Gibbs, “What’s up?”

“Ooh,” says Abby calming down as she realises some of the implications of what she is about to say, “Well, Gibbs, don’t be mad.”

“Why not?” asks Gibbs suspiciously.

“Just remember that I meant well,” says Abby.

The suspicion grows stronger, “I’m thinking of adding that to my rules,” says Gibbs drily.

Abby is momentarily distracted, and she squeals, “You mean you’re going to make me into a rule?”

Gibbs nods, “Uh huh.”

“That’s so cool,” Abby gives Gibbs a hug but then seems to register his silence, “Um, what’s the rule going to be?  You’ve already got a rule about wearing gloves at crime scenes and I figure if you needed any more rules about stuff like that you wouldn’t have waited this long.  And I don’t really have much to do with lawyers – except when I have to give evidence in court, of course so I guess though I don’t really like lawyers that much I don’t do so much with them so I don’t think you’d need to make any more rules about lawyers …”

“Two rules,” breaks in Gibbs.

“ _Two_ rules!”  Abby’s excitement goes up another notch or two but, before she can begin speculating, Gibbs continues,

“The second rule is: _report briefly and accurately at all times._   With the emphasis on _brief.”_

_“_ Oh,” says Abby, “Did I talk too much?”  Gibbs nods.  “I’m sorry … and it’s totally OK for me to say sorry because I don’t have to follow your rules.  Well, unless you tell me to, of course,” she smiles at Gibbs who simply stares back blankly, “And what was the first rule?” she asks humbly.

“Bad news always follows someone saying that they _meant well_.”

“That’s not always true,” protests Abby, “I mean I can remember when …” she trails off as she remembers why she’s come to the squad room, “… although in this case it might be true.”

“What’s happened, Abs?”

“It might not be anything,” she says.

“That’s new rule plus half,” says Gibbs, “I hate it when people say _it might not be anything_.”

By this time, Agents Bishop and McGee have given up any pretence of working and are unashamedly listening in.

“Well,” says Abby, “I think there might be something up with Tony …”

NCISNCIS

“Ow,” says Tony.  He puts a hand groggily to his head and tries to work out why he is lying down and his world is shaking.  “Ow,” he says again, as memory returns.

PREVIOUSLY

Two days after Gibbs’ visit, Tony emerged slightly later than usual from his massage session with Hanna.  As his condition improved Hanna began to focus on improving the tone of his muscles and became more vigorous.  The massages were not as soothing and relaxing as they were at the beginning, but Tony didn’t mind as he felt this was another sign that he was leaving the invalid stage.  Not only did the massage take longer than usual but Tony was also delayed because he was listening in something like fascinated horror to Hanna’s account of the Hopgoods’ request for her to initiate them into the niceties of couples massage.

Suppressing a shudder, Tony walked a little absentmindedly towards his normal spot by the lake.  The sun was shining brightly so Tony decided to move his chair back a little from the edge and sit under a tree for shade: he had forgotten to bring any sun cream and was feeling too lazy to go back to his room to collect some.  In an earlier age, Tony would have thought applying sun cream as being a little wimpish but, as his skin has matured (but, not so far become wrinkled) so Tony has become more cautious.  Avoiding sunburn is sensible, he feels; the DiNozzo dermis is a thing of beauty and deserves to be preserved.

Sitting under the tree, however, meant that he was a little out of sight although Felicity saw him and received her usual sense of well-being from having him nearby.  Tony relaxed in his chair and felt himself drifting off following Hanna’s ministrations.  A few moments later, however, the sound of voices cut through his pleasant snooze.

“Hi, are you Felicity Strong?” came a man’s voice.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Great, I’m a friend of your Mom’s.”

“Mom?”

“Yes, she sent me to get you.  Says she’s all settled in and that you can come join her.”

“What?”  Tony sensed both the excitement and the disbelief.

“Yep!  She asked me to come get you.  She’s got this great apartment … and she has a room picked out for you.”

“Yeh!” cried Felicity, “I’ll go grab my stuff.”

“No need.  Your Mom said to tell you not to bring anything.  She’s gonna buy you all new stuff.  It’s going to be a new start for you.”

“OK, I’ll just go tell Auntie Cassie and Uncle Mark that I’m going.”

“No, your Mom has called them to let them know.  They were real happy and said you should go as soon as I got here.  They didn’t want to hold you up.”

“But … I’d like to say goodbye to them,” said Felicity.

“You can phone them.  Come on.”

Tony sensed impatience in the voice and decided it was time to intervene.

“Hey,” he said, “What’s the rush?  Surely there’s time for Flick to say goodbye and grab some of her stuff?”

“Who are you?”

“I could ask the same question,” said Tony amiably, “I’m Tony.  A friend of Felicity’s.”

“I’m Don,” came the reply, “And hey, I’m just doing a favour for a friend.  Doing what she asked me to.”

“You don’t mind if I check with the Strongs that they got the call, do you?” asked Tony.

Don shifted uneasily, “To tell the truth …”

“Always a good idea,” said Tony in the same amiable manner.

“Ali has had a falling out with them … doesn’t think they’ve been looking after her daughter very well … and she’s in a hurry to see Felicity.”

Tony looked at Flick and could see that she was torn between doubt and hope.

“I’d be happier if we spoke to Felicity’s aunt and uncle,” said Tony.

A hard note entered Don’s voice, “Hey, this is none of your business so butt out, man.”

Tony stiffened, “Ah, well, you see it _is_ my business.  I’m a federal agent and it’s kinda my business to make sure people don’t get abducted.  So, take my advice: we’ll go talk to the Strongs and maybe put in a call to Felicity’s Mom to make sure everything’s all right,” he raised his hands in a peaceable gesture, “Now what’s wrong with that?”

Don seemed to give in.  He shrugged, “Sure, I guess that’ll be OK.”

Tony relaxed a little, thinking that he might have been making things too complicated, “OK, Flick?” he said, “I’m sure it’s all OK but we’d best make sure, eh?”

Flick nodded, obviously confused about what was going on.  Tony smiled at her reassuringly and then tensed as her eyes widened in surprise.  Before he had a chance to react, he felt a stunning blow to the back of his head and knew no more.

PRESENT TIME

“Are you all right?” says Flick anxiously.

Tony decides not to tell his companion the complete truth about a thumping headache and nausea, “What happened?” he asks.

“Don wasn’t on his own.  This other guy crept up behind you and hit you with his gun.  You went down really hard.”

“It’s OK!  Not my first rodeo,” he says reassuringly.  “Hey, my Boss keeps me prepped by giving me head slaps most days.  I got a hard head.  Where are we?”

“They had a van waiting.  They couldn’t decide whether or not to bring you … Don said no but the other one didn’t want to risk leaving you because you might be able to identify them.  I think they were a bit spooked about you being a federal agent.”

“How long have we been driving?”

“About 15 minutes or so.  Um, Mr DiNozzo … Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“Did they really come from Mom?”

“I don’t know, Flick …”

“But Mom wouldn’t have wanted them to hurt you, would she?”

“No, I’m sure not.  They might just have got a bit overenthusiastic.”

“Were they lying when they said that Mom phoned Uncle Mark?”

“I think your uncle would’ve told you if they’d had a call,” says Tony although he can’t help but remember that Mark and Cassie haven’t told Flick where her mother really is.

“What are we going to do?” asks Flick.

“Someone will notice that we’re gone,” says Tony hopefully, “And Flick, you need to do what I tell you, OK?  I don’t trust Don and this other guy.  It might all be a mistake, but I don’t really approve of people who knock me out, so I figure we’ll take this carefully.  Understood?”

Flick nods but Tony can see that she is frightened and worried about what is going to happen next.

“Hey,” says Tony, “Remember, I’m a big bad federal agent … I do this sort of thing most days.”

Flick nods again but says, “But you’ve been ill … won’t that make a difference?”

Tony goes for reassurance and shakes his head – a little too vigorously as it turns out and he has to close his eyes against a wave of dizziness and nausea.  He is jerked back to awareness an indeterminate time later when the van in which they are travelling screeches to a halt: he opens his eyes and sees that the normally somewhat aloof Felicity has cuddled into his side, both giving and receiving comfort.

Tony considers their options.  At least one of their captors is armed but, he reasons, whoever sent them would not be expecting any difficulty in getting Felicity to leave and, indeed without his intervention, she would probably have gone with them quite happily.  This, he hopes, means that they weren’t selected for muscle power and ruthlessness.  He looks at his watch and sees that they have been travelling for around 30 minutes.

The van doors open and Don and his companion peer in.  Tony lies there, blinking and disorientated,

“W-w-what?” he mumbles.

They slam the doors shut again but Tony and Felicity can hear their conversation through the doors.

“Told you that you hit him too hard,” hisses Don.

“What was I meant to do?” hisses the other man back.

“I don’t know,” snaps Don.

“He looks out of it,” comes the answer.

“What do we do if he dies, Joe?”

“He won’t,” says _Joe_ but he sounds uncertain, “We could finish him off.”

“He’s a federal agent!  Don’t be stupid.”

“We’ve only got his word for that,” points out Joe.

“Let’s just dump him here … carry on with the girl.”

Joe considers this option; part of him thinks it would be better to finish Tony off but he doesn’t think Don will agree and he wants to be on the road again.

“OK,” he agrees.

The two men climb into the van and approach Tony.

“W-what?” he says again.

“Come on, sleeping beauty,” says Don, “Time to go.”

Tony tries to protest, “No, don’t kill me!  Please!”

Don and Joe look sceptically at one another, “Some federal agent,” mutters Joe.

“Here, take my watch,” says Tony desperately.

“Huh, don’t mind if I do,” says Don.  He pulls it off Tony’s wrist, “Thanks, fed.  Not as if you’ll be needing it.”

“But,” protests Tony, “I gave it to you so you wouldn’t hurt me …”

“Get that in writing, did you?” snarls Joe.

Tony goes limp and it’s hard work for Joe and Don to get him to his feet and he doesn’t make it easy for them then either.  Joe jumps out of the van first and lifts his arms to bring Tony down but suddenly Tony comes to life and punches him.  As Joe hits the ground, Tony grabs the gun from his pocket and turns it on Don.

“Get down here!” he orders.  He waits until Don has obeyed and seems to be standing meekly enough and then calls Felicity, “Flick!  Get down here, now!”

Felicity scrambles out, giving the two men a wide berth.

“Good girl,” Tony praises.

A wave of anger washes over Tony as he is transported back to his recent ordeal at the hands of the people smugglers.  He remembers his sense of helplessness and outrage and he feels like getting his revenge at the expense of the two kidnappers.  His hand twitches as he considers just shooting them; he doesn’t think anyone would be surprised that Don and Joe died in the act of seizing a federal agent and young girl.

“You,” he barks at Don, “You got a gun?”

Don shakes his head in horror and Tony finds he believes him, “Go!” he orders.

“What?” asks Joe as he nurses his jaw.

“You heard me!  Just go.  Take the van and go.”

“Hah!” says Don, “You’ll kill us as soon as our backs are turned.  It’s a trick.  We’re not stupid.”

“I think that’s a matter of opinion,” says Tony acidly.  He sways in a theatrical manner and the gun wobbles too.

Don and Joe decide to take the offer: it looks as if the fed wants them to go before he keels over.  Somehow, their desire to finish the job has gone and they decide to get away while they can.  The road they are on is a quiet one, but someone will be along soon and might want to interfere.  They cautiously back away and then jump into the van and drive away.

“Why did you let them go?” asks Flick.

“Seemed a good idea at the time,” says Tony absently.  “Where do you think we are?”

“I don’t know,” says Felicity a little crossly.

“Me neither,” says Tony cheerfully, “Better start walking, I guess.  Don’t suppose you’ve got a phone with you?”

Felicity’s face darkens still more, “Not allowed one,” she says bitterly, “Uncle Mark says I can have one when I’m 13!  13!  All the girls at school have one …”

“Never mind,” says Tony.  “We’ll walk this way.  I have a good feeling about this.”

Felicity looks up at him suspiciously but, somewhat surprisingly, slips her hand into his as they walk in the opposite direction to that taken by the van.

“Don’t worry, Flick,” says Tony, “I’ve got their gun.  We’ll be OK.”  He squeezes her hand.  “Hey, it’s like a road trip! Let’s go, now did you ever see …”   

They walk away; sadly, not into a sunset but Tony can work on that.


	7. Chapter 7

Gibbs holds on to the patience he often needs in dealings with Abby, “What do you think might be up with Tony?” he asks.

Before Abby can answer, Ellie spots a news item flashing on one of the TV screens,

“Four Seasons Country Club Hotel, Winchester!  Isn’t that where Tony is?”

“Yes!  What is it?” says Gibbs.

“Amber alert.  A young girl has gone missing from there.”

“Felicity Strong,” reads McGee.

“That’s the girl,” says Gibbs.

“What girl?” asks Ellie.

“You mean, when you came back that time and said he’d found a girl, you really meant he’d found a _girl_?” demands McGee.

“Meant what I said,” replies Gibbs.

“I thought the hotel was an adult only place,” says Tim, “We did a check on guests and staff but there weren’t any children.”

“There are two members of staff called Strong,” says Ellie who has returned to her computer and is rechecking their research.

“Call the hotel,” orders Gibbs, “Find out what’s going on.”

“But it’s just coincidence, isn’t it?” asks Ellie hopefully, “I mean, nothing to do with Tony.”

Gibbs frowns his disapproval of the word _coincidence_ but has to concede that, in this case, it might be true.

“Um,” Abby raises her hand to get everyone’s attention, “Um, it might not be coincidence.”

“What?” snaps Gibbs.

“That’s what I came up to tell you … I don’t think Tony’s at the hotel.”

“What?  How …” asks Gibbs.

“The thing that I _meant well_ about?  Well, I sort of put a tracker in Tony’s watch.  And when I looked at it a few minutes ago, it was on the move.”

“Good job, Abs,” says Gibbs as he swings into action.  “Gear up,” he orders the others, “Abs, can you tell us where the watch is when we’re on the road?  And call the hotel.”

Abby salutes as sharply as she can and scurries off to her lab.

“You two, bring your laptops, we need to look into the girl,” says Gibbs.

“Uh, Boss?” asks McGee, “Are we sure that Tony hasn’t been taken by the people smugglers?”

Gibbs pauses momentarily, “I’m sure … but it doesn’t matter, we still need to find Tony … and we may find the girl as well.”

“What do you think happened?” asks Ellie breathlessly as she runs to keep up with Gibbs.  Gibbs doesn’t answer and keeps striding on, “I guess he might have …” she trails off, “… I guess we’ll find out.”

They have been driving for around forty-five minutes, driving towards the co-ordinates given by Abby, when Tim speaks,

“Felicity Strong.  Her uncle and aunt work at the hotel.  Felicity isn’t listed as a permanent resident, so I guess she’s just spending the vacation with them.”

“What about her parents?” askes Gibbs, unnervingly taking his eyes off the road to direct his enquiry at McGee sitting in the back of the car.

Sadly, McGee is accustomed to Gibbs’ driving and doesn’t react, but Bishop gives a small squawk of fright.  “Doesn’t look as if there’s a dad on the scene.  Her mother is Alison Strong … looks as if she’s in a drug rehabilitation scheme in Wisconsin.  She’s an addict, been in and out of rehab for years and has a string of minor drugs offences.”

“Makes sense that Felicity has gone to stay with her family,” says Bishop.  “Hah, email from Abby, hotel can’t find Tony either.”

“How long do they think the girl was missing before the Amber Alert came out?” asks Gibbs.

McGee looks at the details of the alert, “At least 30 minutes, she didn’t show up for lunch.”

Ellie looks at her watch, “So they’ve been gone about an hour or more.”

“Where’s the watch now?” asks Gibbs.

McGee checks his laptop, “Huh, they’ve stopped.  About 10 miles from here.  Carry on this way, Boss.”

McGee wonders how long it would take _him_ to travel 10 miles and how long it will take Gibbs.  He holds on a little tighter and guesses he’ll soon find out.  Inevitably, it is not long before McGee warns Gibbs that they are approaching the place where the _watch_ stopped moving and Gibbs slows down to a decorous speed to avoid spooking those who they are pursuing.  Alas, it’s too late to avoid spooking his passengers.

As Gibbs drives at, what for him, is almost a crawl, he suddenly slams the brakes on and the car comes to a halt: this does not, however, shock McGee and Bishop who had seen the reason for the abrupt halt at the same time as Gibbs.

What they see is Tony, with blood dripping from the blow on the head, holding the hand of a young girl.  As they watch, Tony’s knees buckle, and he tumbles to the ground.

NCISNCIS

Tony and Flick’s walk begins well enough with Tony giving a running commentary on what they see around them and promising to get help as soon as they find themselves a phone.  Gradually, however, the blow to the head begins to make itself known once more and Tony is flagging but determined to keep going.

They have walked about a mile when Tony comes to a halt, ostensibly to get his bearings but actually to take a rest.  He is just summoning the energy to continue when he sees a black sedan approaching.  It may be wishful thinking, but he thinks he sees that the driver has silver hair and this thought sends such a wave of relief flooding through him that he falls to the ground with the sense that he can finally hand over responsibility to someone else.

Gibbs rushes out of the car to check on Tony who is already beginning to come round.  Felicity is momentarily terrified to see three people, holding guns, all racing towards her but she recognises Gibbs from his visits to the hotel and is slightly reassured by Tony’s smile when he sees them,

“McSaviour!  Bish!  Boss!”

“DiNozzo,” carps Gibbs good-naturedly, “What you get into this time?”

“He saved me,” says Flick, wanting this to be recognised, “Although I’m sure Mommy didn’t mean this to happen.”

“You OK?” Gibbs turns to her.

“It’s all right, Flick,” says Tony, “This is my Boss and my co-workers.  You can trust them.”

“I’m OK,” says Flick, “And I guess this means Uncle Mark will think it’s a good idea for me to have a phone now.  We could’ve called for help if I’d had my own cell.”

“What happened, Tony?” asks Ellie.

“Two guys showed up at the hotel and tried to persuade Flick … Felicity … to go with them.   Said her Mom had sent them.  Yours truly didn’t think that was such a good idea.  One of them snuck up behind me and knocked me out.  Next thing I knew we were in a van.”

“And?” asks Gibbs, nodding at McGee as a reminder to let people know that the Amber Alert can be cancelled.

“Well, call me picky, but I wasn’t too keen on being driven somewhere I didn’t want to go, especially after being knocked out.  So, when I had a chance, I managed to get their gun and we got away.”

“And where are they?” asks Bishop, looking around as if she expects to see the kidnappers somewhere.

“Ah, I let them go,” admits Tony.

“You let them go?” asks McGee, “Why?”

Tony looks a little shifty, “I wasn’t feeling too good,” he admits, “Wasn’t sure I could keep watch over them … not knowing when you’d show up.  So, I let them go.”

Gibbs’ eyes narrow, somehow, he thinks there is something that Tony is not saying but he decides to leave that for the moment.

“Did you get the licence plate?” asks McGee.

Tony thinks about pretending he forgot to get it, but he isn’t feeling at his best and is running out of energy for his usual teasing, “Yes, McObvious, I did,” and he reels it off.

“Um, Tony,” says Ellie who also has something on her mind, “You didn’t seem all that surprised to see us.”

“Ah,” says Tony, “It was a bit of a longshot, but I figured …”

“What?” she prompts.

“Well, Boss didn’t bring me my phone or my laptop but remembered to bring my watch.  He said Abby had had it and made him bring it.  Made me think that, knowing Abby as I do, that perhaps she put something in it – a tracker or something.”

Gibbs nods proudly, “She did.”

Tony manages a somewhat lacklustre triumphant fist pump.

“I’ll get a BOLO out on the van,” says McGee.

“Well …” says Tony.

“Well?” queries Gibbs.

“As it turns out, the bad guys stole my watch …”

“You offered it to them,” points out the accurate Felicity.

“Ah …” say Tony’s co-workers in unison as they understand Tony’s strategy.

Tony shrugs with false modesty, “I thought it might be a good idea to track our erstwhile captors to where they go … you know, find out who hired them.”

“Good work, DiNozzo,” praises Gibbs while Ellie and McGee scramble to obey Gibbs’ unspoken orders.

“Thanks, Boss,” says Tony with a yawn.

Gibbs looks at Tony in concern and tries to decide which hospital it will be best to take Tony to _and_ how he will persuade him to go.

“Boss …” says Tony in a faltering voice.

“Hmm?”

“Am I seeing things, or is that Ducky’s truck coming down the road?”

“Well, if it’s not, I’m seeing things as well,” replied Gibbs.

The ME truck comes to a well-mannered halt and Ducky and Jimmy clamber out.

“Duck?  What you doing here?” asks Gibbs.

“And a good afternoon to you too, Jethro.  And it is good to see you, Anthony although it appears that you are more than slightly the worse for wear.  And this must be Felicity: I am very pleased to meet you, my dear.”

“Duck?” repeats Gibbs.

“Abby told me of your excursion, and I thought it expedient to follow her directions and come to see if Mr Palmer and I could be of assistance.  And it would appear that my _gut_ ,” Ducky pauses to chuckle at his own joke, “was accurate.  Mr Palmer, would you be kind enough to fetch my bag from the van?”

“Nice to see you, Tony,” says Jimmy before hurrying away to get the required bag.

“Now, now,” says Ducky with relish, “What have we here?  What have we been getting up to, then?”

“ _I_ ,” says Tony pointedly, “Have been kidnapped by someone knocking me over the head.”

“Dear, dear,” says Ducky placidly, “Have you got a headache, Anthony?” Tony glares at the doctor who continues, “I’ll take that as a yes.  What about nausea – have you been sick?”

Tony knows the drill all too well, “No nausea now, some dizziness and I’m tired.”

“Hmm,” says Ducky, “Your pupils seem to be equal and reactive to light …”

“I’m fine,” snaps Tony.

“You know,” says Ducky conversationally, “Irritability can be a symptom of concussion …”

“It can also be a symptom of having been knocked out and kidnapped,” says Tony.  He pauses and says penitently, “Sorry, Ducky.  Didn’t mean to snap.”

Ducky pats Tony on the shoulder, “Apology accepted, dear boy.  Your reaction is understandable under the circumstances.  Now, I think you probably have a mild concussion.  I will give you some pills for the headache and, so long as the symptoms subside within a reasonable time frame, we will assume that you will recover without a visit to the hospital.  Unless, of course, you feel that you should go to hospital?”

Tony shudders, “No!  I’ll be fine.”

“Excellent!  Now let me find some suitable painkiller …”

“Duck,” says Gibbs drawing him aside, “You sure about this?”

“Why no, Jethro, I am not at all sure, but I thought I would just roll the dice and see where they landed.  I wish I had some expertise or medical knowledge which could assist me in my diagnosis but, as I don’t, I just have to trust to dumb luck!”  He glares at Gibbs, “Of course, I’m sure!”

“OK, OK,” says Gibbs humbly, “Just checking.”

“Anthony,” says Ducky, “I suggest that Mr Palmer and I escort you to your hotel.  I will then remain with you overnight in order to carry out the necessary checks through the night.  No, there is no need to thank me,” he carries on serenely, deliberately misinterpreting Tony’s reactions, “I wish to consult with Dr Plummer over your progress so it will, as the saying goes, kill two birds with one stone although I do actually deprecate the killing of defenceless animals in the name of sport … it may, of course, be that the saying does not originate from the killing of birds for sport but from a time when people needed to go hunting as a means of putting food on the table and that, I would say, puts a completely different slant on the adage.”

Tony nods in what he is sure is a rather weak manner but he’s not sure he would have followed Ducky’s monologue if he had been in perfect health – and at the moment, he would not say that Anthony DiNozzo is at his best, “Thanks, Ducky.”

“It is entirely my pleasure, I assure you,” beams Ducky, “And perhaps Eleanor could come with us so we can reunite this young lady with her anxious family?”

Felicity is not used to Ducky and simply stares in bemusement.  Gibbs nods permission to Bishop as he agrees that perhaps it would be best to have a woman on hand in case of problems with Felicity.  “We’ll phone ahead to the hotel,” he says.

“State police are tracking the van … or rather, the watch,” says McGee, “They’ll keep us informed.  What you want to do, Boss?”

“They kidnapped a federal agent,” says Gibbs, “Better let the FBI know.  It’s their jurisdiction.”

“Boss?” Tim’s jaw has dropped open in shock at this announcement.

“Think Boss means Fornell when he says FBI,” says Tony, “And Fornell will let you know when he’s ready to make the arrest.  Pretty sure the Boss will be there as well.”

McGee nods, this makes more sense.

Tony, Flick and Ellie climb into the ME van with Ducky and Jimmy are driven away.  Gibbs watches them go and wonders how Tony can get into trouble when he is supposedly in an exclusive, peaceful place of convalescence.  In something of a reverie, he watches until the van is out of sight and then turns to look at Tim who is standing patiently by the car,

“Hey!  What you waiting for?  Come on, move it!”

Tim suppresses a sigh and looks forward, not for the first time, to one day having the privilege of rank himself.


	8. Chapter 8

Ducky’s painkillers are effective but do make Tony feel sleepy and this means that he is only vaguely aware of what is going on when they get back to the Four Seasons hotel.  There is a whirr of activity as Cassie and Mark swoop on Felicity and he senses that they are saying thank you over and over again.  Denis Askew is hovering as well but his presence seems less benign.

Ducky, curt for once, simply steers Tony to his suite and puts him to bed.  Dr Plummer is on hand and, as before, quickly weighs up his audience, and discards any obsequiousness.  The learned murmur of the two doctors exchanging diagnoses and treatment plans creates a tranquil background noise and Tony soon drifts off happily.  Only, of course, to be awoken a couple of hours later by Ducky’s first concussion check.  Even this, however, is not too disturbing as Ducky is, as always, the soul of courtesy and soon lets Tony go back to sleep.

Tony awakes the next morning, if not full of the joys of spring at least with a goodly portion of them and he soon makes his way out doors for breakfast on the terrace where Ducky is already educating the staff on the proper way to brew a pot of tea.

“Ah, good morning, Anthony,” he says when he sees his patient, “And how are you this fine morning?”  He doesn’t wait for a reply, “I must say that you look much better than you did yesterday.  You have less of the look of something that the cat has dragged in.  Although, I will admit that I have little experience of what cats drag in.  You will remember, no doubt, that Mother favoured canines as pets.  I cannot say that I miss those corgis although, whenever I see one, I am struck with a pang of reminiscence,” he pauses, and Tony makes a sympathetic noise.  “Still,” Ducky continues in a more cheerful tone, “There are in fact very few corgis in Washington so the pang does not occur very frequently.  I would suggest that the only time I ever really see a corgi is when I watch footage of Her Majesty; you will be aware, of course, that the British royal family does favour corgis.  Fortunately, however, if the pangs are too severe, I can simply turn off the television and I find that to be a most effective remedy.”

In the time it takes Ducky to deliver this monologue, Tony is able to place his breakfast order.

“Ah,” says Ducky when it arrives, “I see that your appetite has returned.  I must say that you did look a little _peaky_ yesterday when first we met.”

Tony shrugs, “I guess getting knocked out and kidnapped has that effect.”

“Indeed, that is very true.  I would say that on the, fortunately rare, occasions when I have been abducted, I have found that in addition to my blood pressure rising, I am also famished once the ordeal is over.  Do you have a similar experience, Anthony?”

Tony’s possible reply is lost behind a mouthful of bacon and eggs.  Ducky frowns at this breach of etiquette but decides not to voice any criticism in favour of eating his own breakfast.

After breakfast, Ducky conducts a brief examination of Tony and is satisfied that any residual effects of the knock on the head will resolve so long as Tony does not over exert himself.  Tony makes sure he is placid and co-operative and Ducky soon decides that he can leave Tony to the ministrations of Dr Plummer.  Just as he about to leave, he turns to Tony,

“By the way, I have your replacement cell here.  Abby urged me to bring it to you as she feels she needs a more direct way of communicating with you than through the medium of your watch.”

Tony gazes almost open-mouthed at the treasure in his hands, the thought of being able to communicate freely with the outside world is almost overwhelming.  Ducky senses the euphoria – even though he doesn’t share it – and pats him on the arm, “Quite so,” he murmurs, “Quite so.”

“Bye, Ducky,” says Tony abstractedly, “And thanks for everything … you know …”

“Indeed,” says Ducky, “I look forward to seeing you back in DC.  When you are ready, of course.”

Tony waves Ducky goodbye and looks at his phone.  He wonders who to call first but then notices that the battery is flat: he has time in which to make the choice.  He decides, therefore, to go to his favourite place by the lake and finds himself oddly moved by the sight of the chair still being in its usual place.

As he makes his way to the lake, Cassie comes out, ostensibly to take a lunch order.  Under cover of this, she says,

“Mr DiNozzo, Mark and I just wanted to thank you again for what you did yesterday.”

“It was nothing,” says Tony, “I’m just …”

“We keep thinking about what would have happened.  If those men were willing to hurt you then what else might …”

“Well, they didn’t,” says Tony, “And Flick’s back safe.”

“She’s puzzled though.  And so are we.  What was Alison doing getting those men to try and take Felicity?  Do you think it _was_ her or was something else going on?”

Tony tells her that he doesn’t know and decides _not_ to add that Gibbs and the MCRT will soon get to the bottom of the puzzle.  He hopes that the answer won’t cause any more problems.  He begins to move away but Askew bustles up,

“Mr DiNozzo, I want to apologise _again_ for the most unfortunate incident yesterday.  I cannot believe that such unsavoury people were present at Four Seasons.  The other guests were most disturbed at the way that the police and federal agents _swamped_ the estate: it really was most upsetting …”

“I’m a federal agent,” says Tony mildly, “I hope you’re not including federal agents among the _unsavoury_ people?”

Tony realises that Askew probably didn’t know what his job was and that, as a result, his standing may just have gone down but the man rallies well,

“Of course not, Mr DiNozzo, I would never imply that federal agents are not fine upstanding people.  It is simply that it is not something which we would expect to have happen at Four Seasons.  We pride ourselves, as you know, on our exclusivity, quiet and privacy.”

“But you wouldn’t have wanted Felicity’s disappearance to have been ignored, would you?” asks Tony.

Askew fidgets and Tony suspects he would have liked that very much, “This is why we have a _strict_ no children policy,” he asserts, “Just look at the trouble having just one child around has caused.  I will speak further with you and your husband, Mrs Strong to see how we can resolve this problem.”  With that, he nods briskly at Tony and stalks off.

Cassie worriedly watches him go.

“Hey,” says Tony, “You let me know if he gives you any problems.  I’ll enjoy the fight!”

Cassie nods.  It looks as if she wants to thank him again but he says, “I think I need to sit down.”  This causes Cassie to think that he may be feeling unwell so she lets him go although she tells herself that she will periodically keep a watch out for him.  As he goes, Tony turns back,

“Where’s Flick?”

“With her uncle,” says Cassie.  They have decided that Felicity should be with one of them at all times and it is easier for her to be with Mark and out of the way of Askew.

Tony nods, and resolves to pay them a visit later on but, for the moment, he really does need to sit down and to think through the feelings he experienced the previous day.  He thinks that his first phone call may be to Dr Kate’s Sister.

Tony soon gets restless and decides to go find Mark and Flick but, just as he is about to set off, he sees a familiar figure striding towards him.

“Boss!”

“DiNozzo.”

“You need coffee?” asks Tony, even for Gibbs the journey from DC must have taken well over an hour so he must be in need of caffeine.

“Always,” grins Gibbs.

Tony leads him back to the terrace.  Askew is hovering again but one look at Gibbs’ stern face has him scuttling away.  Tony waits until coffee is brought before speaking,

“Found my watch?”

“Huh.  Might be a while before you get it back this time.  Needed for evidence.”

“Guess I might be as lucky with watches as I am with cars,” says Tony philosophically as he thinks of all the watches he has lost over the years.  “You catch up with the kidnappers?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And … might not be what we thought.”

“Eh?  You mean our bad guys weren’t bad guys after all?”

“Oh no, they were bad guys all right.”

“So?”

“So, I figure they thought that Felicity would go with them quietly.”

“Yeah,” says Tony, “That’s what I figured … you know, they – whoever _they_ are – didn’t send their baddest bad guys.”

“Baddest?”

“Hey, who are you, the grammar police?”

Gibbs doesn’t answer that question, “You’re right, they weren’t the brightest bulbs on the Christmas tree but that was supposed to work in their favour, you know – not look threatening.”

“So, who was it who sent them?  Was it Flick’s Mom?”

“Kinda.”

“Gibbs, it might not have been a bad concussion, but my head still hurts.  Could you speed this up?”

“We think someone was trying to do Alison Strong a favour,” Gibbs relents.

“Why would they want to do her a favour?  I thought she was just in rehab, possibly facing a prison sentence for dealing if she didn’t clean up her act.”

“That’s what it looked like,” admits Gibbs.

“But?”

“Seems that Alison cleaned up her act a long time ago …”

“Then why was she in rehab?” asks a puzzled Tony.  He stares at Gibbs, brain working feverishly, “Ah …”

“Yep,” confirms Gibbs.

“Clever,” comments Tony, “Being a drug addict, and continually trying to get clean, could be a good cover for doing other things with drugs.”

“Yeah,” Gibbs looks sad for a moment, “Seems that Felicity was a good cover as well.”

“What?”

“She got the sympathy vote for apparently trying to be a good mom despite her _addiction_.  Having a kid in the mix meant that she was believed when she said she’d been led astray into crime.”

“But she hadn’t been … led astray, I mean?”

“She might have been – once.  But I figure that was a long time ago and she’s been on her own path for a long time now.”

“And what is that path?”

“She seems to be a major player in the drugs scene, but nobody knew.”

“Until?”

“Until someone decided to do her a favour and bring her daughter to her.  Don and Joe led us to the headquarters of a major drugs cartel, and they were pretty happy to spill the beans about who hired them and why.  FBI are investigating.  They reckon either this drugs cartel wanted to do business with Alison or …”

“Or?”

“Or she’s actually the head of the cartel and it was someone lower down who thought they were doing a favour.”

“Damn.”

“Yep.”

“Poor Flick.  She loves her Mom.  What’s going to happen to Alison now?”

“She’s been taken out of rehab … turns out that she was being allowed regular trips out on her own, you know, as a way of testing if she was ready to re-engage with society.  Now that the FBI think that she’s a bigger fish than anyone thought, they’ve been doing some monitoring of where she went, and it looks as if she was still working away at the drugs thing.  Reckon she’s going down for some serious time even if she manages to swing some sort of deal but I don’t think she’ll manage it.  There are too many people ahead of her in the queue waiting to rat her out in exchange for their own deal.”

“Are you here to tell the Strongs – hey, they’re not involved in it, are they?”

Gibbs shakes his head, “The FBI are looking into their dealings with Alison and checking their bank accounts, but they don’t think there’s anything odd going on.  Alison looks like the arch manipulator and she kept up her act with everyone.”

“So, you gonna tell them?”

“No, not yet.  We’ll wait until we got the whole story and then …”

Tony looks at Gibbs suspiciously, “Let me guess.  You’re going to suggest that _I_ break the news to them.”

“Wasn’t really gonna be a _suggestion_ ,” says Gibbs thoughtfully.  “Hey, DiNozzo, you know the family.  You seem to have got close to the girl.  It’ll be better coming from someone they know, someone who can lay out the options.”

“I guess,” said Tony, “Looking forward to it already.  They’re nice people, Gibbs.  And Flick doesn’t deserve this either.”

Gibbs shrugs and Tony knows that normally he would do the same: they are all too accustomed to innocent people being caught up in the machinery of the misdeeds of others.  This time, however, it hits home more personally: Tony has had something of a fellow feeling with Felicity since he first saw her, recognising her pain at having an inadequate parent.  Now, it seems that Alison is not only inadequate but scheming, manipulative and criminal into the bargain.

“Perhaps you’re wrong,” he says hopefully.

“Maybe,” says Gibbs but it is clear that he doesn’t think so – and Tony doesn’t think so either.


	9. Chapter 9

“So, Agent DiNozzo – Tony – how have you been doing?” asks Dr Cranston the next day.

“Oh, just peachy,” says Tony.  He knows he is being unreasonable, it is he, after all, who asked Dr Kate’s Sister to come but now he feels unwilling to bare his soul.

Rachel gazes at him but doesn’t push yet, “Seems you’ve had some excitement,” she comments.

“Could say that,” Tony pulls himself together: it is crazy to push her away and he is really, really hoping he’s not crazy.  “Two guys turned up to try and persuade a young girl to go with them to her mom.  I smelt a rat and intervened.  One of them knocked me out and took me and Flick – that’s the girl – with them.”

“And?”

“I managed to get their gun.”

“And how did you feel?”

“Sick – I tend to get nauseous when I’m hit on the head.  And a headache too.”

“Not what I meant.  How did you feel about being kidnapped?”

“How do you think I felt?” asks Tony crossly.

“You know how this works.  I ask the questions, you answer them,” says Rachel serenely.

“I-I … well, I guess it brought back memories …”

“Of?”

“Of when those other guys snatched me,” admits Tony.

“That’s completely understandable,” says Rachel, “And I hope you remember that we agreed that those feelings of helplessness and anger were inevitable – and nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I’m not ashamed of them,” says Tony hotly, “… well, not any more.  You were very convincing, you know.”

“Glad to hear it.  So, you managed to get away from them?”

“I’m sure you’ve had all the details from Gibbs.”

“Maybe.  But I’m interested in hearing what you have to say.”

“Yes, I got the drop on them.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Well, I don’t know – _happy_?” says Tony sarcastically.

“I don’t see there’d be anything wrong with feeling happy about it.  I was wondering if it did anything for your confidence?”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Agent DiNozzo!  You know what I mean.”

Tony grins reluctantly, “OK, you’re right.  Getting the drop on them and getting back in control felt good.  Made me think …”

“That you still have a future as a NCIS special agent?”

“I guess.”

“ _And_ you had the idea of getting them to steal your watch ‘cos you thought Miss Sciuto had probably put a tracker in it – you saw a way of finding out who was behind them.  You saw the bigger picture.”

“See, I knew you’d had the story from Gibbs.”

Rachel smiles, “It was good work.  Unconventional but good work.  Which kinda sums you up, doesn’t it, Tony?”

“I guess.”

“So you should be proud of what you did.  You are proud, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.”

“So, what else is going on, Tony?”

“I thought I’d come to terms with what happened to me,” says Tony after a long pause.

“But?”

“But it all came rushing back when I woke up in the van.  And when I had their gun in my hand and they were at my mercy … I just wanted to shoot them.  I told myself nobody would blame me … and if things had gone a little differently, it could have happened.”

“But you didn’t shoot them.”

“No.”

“Is that why you let them go?”

“Sort of … I mean, like you said, it was a good idea – it’s always better to go for the big fish than the tiddlers but … but I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stay in control if I had to keep looking at them.”

“And this worries you?”

“Sure.  Shouldn’t it?”

“I think it’s encouraging.”

“Encouraging?  Encouraging that I nearly lost control and killed people?”

“Yes, encouraging.  I think the important word in all this is _nearly_ – you _nearly_ lost control but you didn’t.  You recognised the feelings and acted appropriately.  What wouldn’t have been _encouraging_ would have been if you’d lost control and shot them.”

“So you don’t think it matters?  That I got so angry?”

“Tony, you went through a really tough time both physically and mentally.  Tell me, are you completely better physically?”

Tony thinks of the lurking aches and pains he still suffers and of the way that he still walks much slower than before his ordeal, “I guess not,” he says reluctantly.

“And that’s completely to be expected.  And your mind, your feelings will take a while to get better too.  But now you know, that even though you might not be completely back to strength, back to normal, you can cope with the problems, you’ll find a way through.”

Tony is silent for a few long moments, “You know,” he says reflectively, “I’m not sure many people will think I can get back to normal …”

“Why not?” asks Rachel in concern.

“’Cos they don’t think I was ever normal to start with,” grins Tony.

Rachel smiles back but says seriously enough, “There’s all different types of normal, Tony and I reckon that yours is a pretty good type.  You’ll be OK.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“You’re most welcome, Special Agent DiNozzo!”

NCISNCIS

The conversation with Dr Cranston reassures Tony although he can’t help but wish that the recovery is over and he is back to what passes for normal with him.

Gibbs phones him the following day: Tony almost wishes that he didn’t have his phone after all because the conversation means that he will have to talk to Mark and Cassie.  He arranges to meet them by the lakeside with Flick sitting at some distance from them involved in another of her projects.

“Um,” he begins, “You know that I’m a federal agent?”

“Sure,” they nod.

“My Boss, Agent Gibbs, he asked me to let you know what’s happening about the guys who tried to get Felicity to go with them.”

“Yes?” says Mark.  The anxiety and fear have subsided in the days since the kidnapping and they are no longer so concerned about what led to it happening.

“What do you have to tell us?” asks Cassie.  She glances at her niece, but they are out of earshot and she doesn’t appear to be worried.

“They followed the kidnappers back to their base,” explains Tony, “And then they grabbed them.  And, because they followed them all the way, they were able to find the people who sent them.”

“Not Alison?” asks Mark.

“We don’t think so.”

Cassie sighs with relief, “I guess that’s good, isn’t it?  That she didn’t send those horrible men to take Felicity?”

“Well, no – not entirely,” says Tony.

“What?” they both ask.

“It seems that Don and Joe were working – at a fairly low level – for a big drugs cartel.  The people who sent them wanted to do your sister a favour,” explains Tony.

“A favour?  What kind of favour?” asks Mark.

“Bringing her daughter to her.”

“Why did they want to do her a favour?” asks Cassie, “Ali’s in rehab.  Why would they want to get on her good side?”

Tony swallows but ploughs on, “Alison was in rehab, but she didn’t actually need to be.”

“What?” exclaims Cassie.  Tony notes that Mark does not protest.

“It seems that Alison came off drugs a long time ago …”

“But …” protests Cassie.  Mark takes her hand and gestures for her to be silent.

“We think that Alison pretended to be an addict as a way of disguising what she was really doing.  And what she was really doing was building up a huge organization which was importing and selling illegal drugs.  If things got too hot or she fell under suspicion she conned people into thinking that she was just a small player caught up in something bigger than she realised, that her judgement was skewed because of her addiction.”

“And what about Felicity?” asks Mark.

Tony winces, “It’s possible that Felicity was a useful part of her story.  You know, the wayward mother trying to get things together for her daughter.  It got her the sympathy vote.”

“And it’s not true?  I mean, she wasn’t trying to get things together for Felicity?” asks Mark.

“Who knows?  It might be that she truly cares for her daughter … but I suspect she cares more about herself,” says Tony frankly.

“So why did these people want to do her a favour?” asks a bewildered Cassie.

“Either because they wanted to do a deal with her organization or … or because they actually work for her and were trying to get on her good side.”

“And which do you think it is?” asks Mark stoically.

“Agent Gibbs thinks – and he’s probably right, he usually is – that she’s the head of the organization.”

“And where is she now?” asks Cassie.

“She’s been taken out of the rehab scheme and she’s in prison facing trial on some very serious charges.  She’s got lawyers and it looks as if she’s trying to get some sort of plea deal, but she hasn’t got a strong hand to play.  Turns out that a lot of other people are throwing her to the wolves to get a deal of their own.  She’s going to prison for at _least_ 15 years, I’d say.”

Cassie gasps and her gaze shoots to Felicity sitting placidly on the grass.

Tony follows her gaze but then switches to looking at Mark, “You’re not surprised?”  he says.

Mark grimaces before saying, “I always wanted to believe the best of Ali, but I wasn’t sure.  I never fell for her sob stories like everyone else did.  I guess I knew her too well … she could always talk her way out of trouble – or me into it!  So, I didn’t _know_ but somehow, I’m not surprised.   Does that make sense?”

“I remember you said that you weren’t sure she’d been led astray all those years ago,” says Tony.

“You’ve got a good memory.  But I wasn’t sure, and I guess I went along with it all.”

“Why?” asks Tony but he thinks he already knows the answer.

“Felicity,” says Mark simply, “She’s the most important thing.  I didn’t want to lose contact with Ali and risk what might happen with Felicity.  Cassie could tell you of times when she ended up with people we didn’t know – once that happened a couple of times, well, I knew I couldn’t risk _us_ not being Ali’s preferred place for Felicity to go.”

“You never said,” says Cassie.

Mark squeezes her hand, “I’m sorry.  I reckon I didn’t want to say it out loud in case it made it true.  I know that’s stupid but … it just seemed better to go along with Ali’s stories.  It’s not as if I had any proof – it was just that I knew Ali.  And I wanted to believe her, I wanted to believe that one day she’d kick the drugs and come home.”

“What happens now?” asks Mark, “To Felicity?”

“Might depend on what you want to happen,” says Tony cautiously.

Something like hope dawns on their faces, “We always wanted to give her a more permanent home,” says Cassie, “I suppose we might be able to now.  After all, Felicity will need somewhere to live, won’t she?”

“But she’ll have to know why,” says Mark with a worried look on his face, “She’ll have to know that her mom’s been lying to her all this time, that she’s a real criminal.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t need to know,” argues Cassie, “She could just think that something went wrong with the new job … that she ended up being caught up in something criminal … that …”  She stops and looks at the two men, “That won’t work, will it?”

“She’ll have to know at least some of the truth,” says Mark firmly, “I think we’ll have to tell her that Ali’s been a drug addict … that sometimes when she sent Felicity away it was because she was in rehab.”

“That means she’ll know that Ali lied to her,” says Cassie.

“And that we lied to her as well,” says Mark sadly, “You think she’ll ever trust us … or anyone again?”

“We can think what to tell her,” says Cassie hopefully.

“You know,” says Tony diffidently, “I’m nothing of an expert in this but I reckon you need to tell her as much of the truth as you can.  You don’t want Flick growing up thinking somehow that her mom was misjudged or a victim.  The truth may be hard but if she finds out – and she will –that you still haven’t told her the truth, it’s just building up trouble for later.  What happens when Alison finally gets out of prison: do you really want her to manipulate Flick again with her stories?”

“We don’t want her to hate Ali,” says Mark.

“I know.  And you don’t have to make her hate her, but just be realistic about her.  It might be tough, but I think it’s for the best.  You know, kids can still love their parents even when they find out they’ve got feet of clay, but they need to know who they can trust.”

“I guess,” agrees Cassie.

“And,” says Tony, “I know a really good psychologist who could help you all come to terms with this.”

Mark and Cassie stand up, “Thank you.  For everything,” says Mark, “This can’t have been easy for you …”

“No worries,” says Tony, “Flick’s a good kid.  She needs someone to look out for her.  I’m going to head back to the house.  I think you’ve got some talking to do.”  He nods farewell and walks away, hoping that Felicity’s uncle and aunt really do have her best interests at heart.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

Part of Tony wants to go and play stormy music on the piano, but the other part feels that it’s better to go and sit in his old place in the library and wait to see what happens.

It’s more than an hour before he sees Mark and Cassie come back to the house.  He sees that their faces are sad and strained and he suspects that the talk with Felicity has been painful.  Once again, Tony feels himself divided: part of him feels that it’s none of his business and he shouldn’t get involved but the other, better, part of him urges him to go and speak to Felicity.  He allows the better part to win; something which he allows to happen more than he lets on to other people.

“Hi,” he says to Flick who is sitting where he left her.  She is pulling stalks of grass up angrily and the flowers she had gathered for her latest garland are lying decapitated beside her.  She looks up at him briefly and scowls.  “We need to talk,” he says firmly, still fighting an impulse to run – or at least, walk as fast as possible – back to the house.

Flick scowls again but Tony sees the track of tears on her face and decides it is worth persisting.

“You mind coming over to my chair?” he asks mildly, “Don’t want to risk seizing up again if I sit on the ground.”

Flick considers this for an unnervingly long time but then nods and follows him to his seat.

“I guess your uncle and aunt have told you,” he begins.

Flick nods angrily.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Tony says a little inadequately.

“You think?  Finding out Mom’s some sort of master criminal?  That she’s been lying to me … to everyone … all this time?  That Uncle Mark and Auntie Cass have been lying to me too?”  She makes a sound between a sob and a laugh.

“What’s the worst thing in all that?”

Flick thinks, “All of it!”

“Mark and Cassie didn’t know what was going on with your Mom.  They were just looking out for you.”

“They knew that Mom hadn’t gone for a wonderful new job in Wisconsin!  And all those other times when they looked after me – they told me lies about why Mom was leaving me.”

“I know,” says Tony, “But they were doing what your Mom wanted.  They thought they were doing the best thing for you.  They care for you, you know.”

“Mom doesn’t though, does she?”

“I don’t know, Flick.  She cared enough to ask Mark and Cassie to look after you.  That’s got to count for something, hasn’t it?”

“Why has it?  You mean I have to make allowances for her?” demands Flick, “Why should I?”

“We don’t always get the parents we want,” says Tony, “Sometimes we need to make allowances for them – not because they deserve it because, in the end, it can make things easier for us.”

“You mean that we should lie to ourselves?  Like they’ve all lied to me?”

“Not exactly,” says Tony, worried that he has gone astray somewhere. “Sometimes we just have to make the best of the hand we’ve been dealt.”

“But it’s not fair!” wails Felicity, “Did I do something to make me deserve this?”

“No,” says Tony firmly, “Your Mom made her own decisions … she’s an adult and she should have behaved like one.  None of this is your fault.”

“But I don’t know what to do … or what to think …it’s all such a mess!” sobs Felicity.

“Hey,” says Tony after allowing her to weep for a while, “It’s not all bad, you know.  I mean I know all this is tough and difficult, but you have got people who care …”

“Who?  You?” she adds hopefully.

“Well, of course I care,” says Tony, “But I meant your aunt and uncle …”

“Oh,” says Felicity disappointedly.

“They’ve always taken you in when your Mom asked them to, haven’t they?”

Felicity nods reluctantly.

“And they’ve been kind to you, haven’t they?”

Felicity nods again.

“You know, they only lied to you because it was what your Mom asked them to.”

“I guess … they said I can come and live them all the time.”

“That’s good – do you want to do that?”

Felicity shakes her head, “I want to live with Mom.”

“You know you can’t do that,” says Tony gently, “Your Mom is going to jail – for a long time.  You can’t be with her.”

Felicity’s eyes fill with tears again and she thinks back to that day when she sat by the lake and imagined that Tony was her father, “I could live with you,” she says, “You could be like my Dad.”

Tony also remembers that first day when he had the brief daydream of the unknown girl being his daughter and something tugs at his heart once more at the thought of having someone to care for and love,

“Flick,” he says reluctantly, “It wouldn’t work.  I’m at work most of the time.  I just have a one bedroomed apartment …”

“I wouldn’t be any trouble,” insists Flick, “Promise.”

“Flick, you’re just a kid.  You’re allowed to be a nuisance, it’s part of growing up, it’s part of being a child.”

“I’d be good,” persists Flick, “I promise.  I’ve never had a Dad; couldn’t you be mine?”

“No, I’m sorry,” says Tony, realising that he really means those words.

“You don’t care!” shouts Flick, “You don’t know what it’s like!  You’re like the rest of them …”

“Felicity!” says Tony, “Calm down,” he considers his next words and decides to take a risk, “You know,” he says, “My Mom died when I was eight …”

Flick looks at him with a bit more interest.

“… and my Dad didn’t know what to do with me.  He wasn’t great as a father figure.  He used to farm me out to boarding school and camps – always told me to make sure I got invited to my friends’ houses in vacations.  One time, he did take me on vacation, and he forgot about me: left me in the hotel and went back home.  He didn’t know until the hotel found out I was charging stuff to room service …”

“That’s bad,” says Flick.

“Yeah.  And I was difficult as a kid.  Got kicked out of tons of schools …”

“But you’re allowed … ‘cos that’s part of being a kid,” remembers Flick.

Tony grins, “Well, kinda but I have to say that I sort of made acting out an art form!”

Felicity giggles but she looks sad as well.

“I straightened myself out in the end – and I figure I owe that to someone finally taking an interest in me.”

“Your Dad?” asks Flick hopefully.

“Nah, it was someone whose job it was to care about the kids in his charge.  But I went through a lot of people’s hands before one of them took the time to notice me, to care.”

“And do you hate your Dad?”

Tony searches for the words, “No.  I did for a while because I was angry at what happened but, in the end, I came to realise that it wasn’t _my_ fault that he wasn’t a good parent.  It’s just the way he is and there’s no point fighting that.”

“Do you _love_ him then?”

Tony thinks again, “Yes, I do love him.  Not perhaps like a son wants to love his father: Senior - that’s what I call him – was never going to be a father figure.  But I love him as a friend because that’s more what he is.  And once I figured out that he’d never be the perfect father and I let go of that idea, then things got better.”

“And you think that’s what I need to do?  Stop thinking of Mom as a mother?”

“Maybe, but that’s for you to work out.  But I think it can help to see people as they really are and not how we’d like them to be.  Does that make sense?”

“I guess.  But it’s hard.”

“I know.  You know I said that it was a long time before anyone really noticed me?”

“Yes.”

“You know, you’re lucky because you’ve already got people who love you, people who already notice you.”

“Uncle Mark and Auntie Cass?”

“Yes, I can tell that they really care for you, you know.”

“I’m mad at them.  Really mad!” insists Flick.

“I know, but do you think you’re mad at them because they’re around to be mad at?”

“What?”

“I reckon the person you’re really mad at is your Mom, but she isn’t here to be mad at so you’re taking it out on Mark and Cassie.”

Felicity takes a while to digest this, “I guess …”

“And I figure that being around for you to be mad at … well, that shows how much they care …”

“I did get pretty mad at them,” remembers Flick.

“And what did they say?” asks Tony, hoping that he’s guessed right about their reaction.

“They said they were sorry … and said I could stay with them as long as I wanted,” Felicity gulps as she thinks back to their conversation, “They let me be mad at them and didn’t get mad back at me.  I guess … I guess that means that they do care.”

“I think so,” agrees Tony.

“I think I’d better go find them,” says Flick, “And …” but she realises she doesn’t quite know what to say to them.

Tony understands the dilemma, “Just go find them,” he says, “I think you’ll work it out.”

Flick scrambles to her feet in preparation for running to find Mark and Cassie but, before she goes, she flings her arms around Tony’s neck, “Thank you,” she whispers.  She withdraws her arms and says more loudly, “But I’m still mad.”

“I know, I know,” replies Tony.

Tony isn’t sure how successful he’s been but decides it’s a good enough start: the Strongs have a way to go to resolve their problems and he thinks that a referral to Rachel Cranston may be a good idea.  He hoists himself off his chair and walks slowly back to the house.  In the distance, he sees Flick hugging her uncle before running into the house to find Cassie.  Tony smiles what he knows is probably a smug smile.

By the time he reaches the terrace, Denis Askew has found Mark and is having a heated discussion with him,

“She’ll have to go,” he says loudly.

“But …” says Mark.

“It’s bad enough that she upset the Hopgoods,” says Askew, “And then allows herself to get kidnapped so that the estate is completely disrupted …”

Tony feels his blood pressure begin to rise at the idea that it is somehow Flick’s fault that she was kidnapped.

“… and a valued guest was caught up in the kidnapping as well,” Askew waves a newspaper irately, “And now I find out that the girl’s aunt – your sister – is a drug addict and a crook!  She’ll have to go!”

Tony realises that the FBI must have issued a press release and that Askew has seized on it.

“The reputation of Four Seasons has been tarnished – perhaps, irreparably damaged – as a direct result of your niece’s presence here.  She will have to go,” he continues.

“She can’t,” says Mark, “We’re the only people who can look after her.”

“That’s not my concern.  She’ll have to go and, if necessary, you’ll have to go too!  You know that this an adult only hotel, so if she stays, you’ll be in breach of your contract and I won’t hesitate to dismiss you!”

“But …” says Mark.

“Mr Skewed,” says Tony deciding to make his presence known.

“Askew,” corrects Denis with a sycophantic smile.

“Whatever,” replies Tony, “I understand that Four Seasons prides itself on the security it offers its guests.”

“Absolutely.  It is one of our proudest achievements.”

“And yet the kidnappers managed to make their way into the grounds,” Tony points out.  Askew swallows anxiously.  “Makes me think that perhaps your security isn’t up to much.”

“Well … I wouldn’t say that,” says Askew.

“Wouldn’t you?  You know, when my agency arranged my stay here, they also put in place some extra surveillance and security to assure my safety …” Tony isn’t actually sure of this but he remembers the occasional sighting of people who looked like federal agents on the boundary of the hotel and thinks that Gibbs wouldn’t have entrusted his security to amateurs, “… and my Boss sometimes came to see me – without any of your people being any the wiser.”

“I-I don’t think …”

“I don’t think it was a coincidence that the kidnappers managed to get in once the extra security provided by my agency was withdrawn, do you?”

“I wouldn’t want to …”

“It would be a shame if word got out that your security isn’t as good as advertised,” says Tony in a bland but somehow dangerous tone.

“I’m sure …”

“Because I think that other federal agencies might have occasion to use places like this for employees who are recovering after risking their lives for the public good …”

“That would be good,” says Askew more cheerfully despite his misgivings about the presence of _federal_ agents on the premises.

“But if word gets to them that their agents might be in danger …” Tony leaves the implication unsaid.

Askew swallows at the thought of all this potential lost business but then remembers that Felicity annoyed the Hopgoods,

“Nevertheless,” he says with as much dignity as he can muster, “There is a problem with the child.  And I’m not sure that I can let it slide.”

“Hmm,” says Tony, “That’s a shame.  I’ve found Mr and Mrs Strong to be among the most competent, caring and efficient members of your staff.  I think Four Seasons would miss them.”

“Be that as it may,” rallies Askew, “We have to adhere to our policies.”

“I see,” says Tony, “Mr Strong, perhaps you should look at your contract of employment.  See what the terms of your occupancy of the cottage are.”

Mark simply nods, he is enjoying the spectacle too much to interrupt.  Tony also is enjoying himself and sweeps on before Askew can say anything, “By the way, Mr Strong, if you _are_ threatened with dismissal, let me know.  It just so happens that two of my fraternity brothers run Hawkins and Bashford Employment Law Practice in DC.  Have you heard of them?” Tony asks Askew kindly.  Askew shakes his head in a cowed manner, “They’re considered to be the best in their field.  They’re always happy to take on friends of mine as clients.  Good afternoon.”  Tony continues his majestic progress.  Askew watches him go while Mark hurries away to enjoy his laugh in private.


	11. Chapter 11

She sits at the lakeside gazing out across the water, enjoying the companionship of the moment.  She knows that he is sitting nearby and, for a moment or two, allows herself to slip into the daydream that this is her father and that they are sitting quietly together before they arise and go off together on some father/daughter expedition.  She looks across at him thoughtfully.

He is also sitting gazing out across the water, allowing the peace and tranquillity of the place to ease the worries he still feels.  The presence of the girl helps too, she seems to anchor him and stop him spiralling away into a vortex of what-ifs and could-have-beens.  He also remembers the day they first sat in this place and, for a moment or two, he allows himself to slip back into his daydream of her as his daughter, the fruit of a love which hasn’t, so far, come his way.  He looks across at her thoughtfully.

Their eyes meet and they grin; each a little embarrassed at the direction their imaginations have taken them.  The moment is broken by Cassie arriving with lunch for both of them.  Tony’s appetite has returned with a vengeance over the last few days so the tray is heavier than it would have been once.

Tony still uses the comfortable chair to sit on so Flick scurries over to see what her aunt has brought them.  She knows she will need to be quick, there won’t be any leftovers on Tony’s plate for her to scavenge.

Cassie smiles and touches her gently on the shoulder, “There’s plenty for both of you,” she teases.

“Cold pizza!” hums Tony happily as he sees what chef has provided.

Flick frowns, “Cold pizza?”

Tony pauses in the act of taking his first mouthful, “Sure.”

“But isn’t that sort of … gross?”

“Gross?” Tony is dumbfounded and wonders whether it is as well that Flick is not his daughter.

“Well, sure.  You know, cold congealed cheese … and stuff!”

“Hmm … cold congealed cheese,” Tony’s eyes close momentarily in bliss before he decides to concentrate on educating this child.  Once again, he realises that he is allowing his better self to triumph in letting Flick into the delights of cold pizza rather than leaving _her_ in ignorance and _him_ in possession of all the cold food.  “Well,” he begins judicially, “I can see why you might think that but actually, and you’ll need to trust me on this, cold pizza is even better than warm pizza.  Go on, try it …” he holds out a slice invitingly.

Flick is dubious but she does trust Tony and so she, unwillingly, takes the offering, chews a very small mouthful … and then a Tony-like look of bliss dawns on her face too and she devours the rest of the slice.

“Told you so,” says Tony smugly.

Flick and Tony eat in silence.  Tony realises that silence is somehow the norm between them.  They do have conversations, but they don’t talk for the sake of it and Tony finds this rather soothing: he begins to understand a little more about Gibbs’ silence and wonders if he should seek it out himself.

“Do you have to go?” asks Flick as she eats the last cookie and drains the last of the juice.

“Yep,” says Tony, “Boss is coming to pick me up this afternoon.”

“You could stay,” suggests Flick casually.

“To annoy Askew?” asks Tony.  Denis Askew will certainly be pleased to see Tony go.  Askew doesn’t really approve of federal agents using the hotel as a convalescence home but, more than that, he doesn’t approve of Tony hanging out with Felicity Strong and coming down firmly on the side of Mark and Cassie in any potential dispute with the hotel.

“I guess,” says Flick, “He doesn’t like you, you know.”

Tony shrugs, he is used to people like Askew not liking him.  He has enjoyed the battle of wills with the hotel manager and he thinks he, with the help of his frat brothers, has come out on top so that the Strongs are secure in their jobs.  “Don’t think my bosses will let me stay just so I can annoy him.”

“You’re not better yet,” says Flick still more casually.

Tony knows this is true; he still moves slowly and will be on desk duty for a few weeks when he returns to DC, but he is ready to go back and is beginning, at long last, to go stir crazy. 

“I’m better enough.”

“I’m still not very good at finding the lost golf-balls,” says Flick.

“Might be because there aren’t any to find,” Tony points out.

“ _You_ always find them.”

“True.  But I’m a seasoned investigator, I’m meant to be good at things like that.  And,” Tony feels compelled to say, “I’m pretty bad at golf so I’m kinda used to knowing where balls get lost.”

“I’ll miss you,” mutters Flick, finally driven to the real reason she doesn’t want Tony to go.

“I’ll miss you too,” says Tony and he is surprised to find how true that is.  He arrived at the hotel in a mess both mentally and physically, ready to sink into a pit of self-pity and anxiety but, somehow, Flick’s presence teased a response out of him; made him begin to think and care again.  His rescue of Flick seems to have rescued himself as well, renewing his confidence in his physical and mental powers and making him believe he can overcome his remaining difficulties.  He thinks about expressing some of this to Flick but decides not to: she has the right to be a child and doesn’t need any of this situation to be about _him_.

Flick smiles.  As Tony noticed before, she is a watchful child and she picks up on what people think and do as well as what they say – she understands the sincerity behind his words.

“I was talking to Mark and Cassie,” says Tony.

Flick is not always interested in the conversations adults have among themselves but there is something slightly curious about the way Tony says this.  She nods cautiously.

“It wouldn’t take long for me to drive out here,” he says.

“To see Auntie Cass and Uncle Mark?”

“Sure.  And you too … if you’d like that?”

Flick nods.

“Like you said, you still need some coaching in finding those lost golf-balls …”

Flick nods again.

“… and we could do other stuff …” 

Flick nods again.

They go back to their silent dreams as they gaze across the water. 

Flick pictures a life which won’t always be easy – she will miss her Mom, or at least the idea of Mom … but it will be a life with the love and support of her uncle and aunt.  It will also be a life with some Tony: she can picture them on golf-ball expeditions and, perhaps, trips to movie theatres or restaurants or just sitting silently together.  Other people may look on and decide they’re father and daughter; Flick knows that they will be wrong, but she finds she doesn’t mind.

Tony pictures his life with Flick in it; giving him something more than work to think about, stirring his compassion and patience … and being an excuse to go to children’s movies.  Other people may look on and think they’re father and daughter and a part of Tony is sad that they’re not … but he’s used to making the best of what life gives him and he finds he doesn’t mind too much.

The sound of a yellow warbler brings Tony out of his daydream.  He looks around and sees Gibbs waiting by the hotel entrance.

“Time to go,” he says.

Flick nods.  She slips his hand into his as they walk away.  Tony hugs her when they reach the car.  They both realise that the handholding and embrace are unusual for them - they have rarely touched.

“Look after him,” Felicity orders Gibbs fiercely.

Gibbs nods and this is enough for her.  She is, after all, a watchful child.

Tony looks back as the car pulls away and sees that Mark and Cassie both have a hand on Flick’s shoulder.  He thinks she will be fine … and he thinks he will be too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has taken an interest in the story. The NCIS characters aren’t mine but the people at the hotel are!


End file.
